Flash, Flash, Flash Photography
by Jaye Black
Summary: All she wanted was an A...what she got was a chance at love. Jude is a photography student given the assignment of taking candid shots of the campus bad boy, Tom Quincy. With the help of her crazy friends, she begins work on Mission Stalkarazzi. Complete.
1. In Which a Task is Given

**A/N:** All right, everyone! Long time no see, huh, peeps? Well, I've been debating whether or not to post this here, actually, because I have some crazy homophobic friends that might freak on me about Shay and the whole Tyla plot line. But I decided to say, "Screw this crap, man!" and post, because I love this story too much to let something like that stop me from sharing it.

Okay, so, this fic is VERY Original Character dependent. It's AU. It has pretty much nothing to do with the actual plot line of Instant Star, except for bits of Jude's past and, of course, the characters. Just thought I'd let you know, because some people don't like fics like that? Anyway, I'll shut up in a second and let you have the fic. Ha.

**DISCLAIMER OF DOOM:** (takes a deep breath) Okay, I own Shay, Lizzy, Ty, and any other random OCs that pop up in this. I own my plot. I own my words. I do not own any of the Instant Star characters. I do not own the song lyrics used in any of this fic, unless otherwise stated. So don't sue me! There! DONE! Also, I got the whole "Give me...flash" thing from Chuck Palanhiuk's book _Invisible Monsters, _or, as most people are more familiar with, Panic! at the Disco's song "Time To Dance" which is based on that book.

**Note2: **For those who haven't read my fics on DLS, I almost always post a "Note2" saying what I'm listening to. I just like to share music. Ha. Anyway, right now I'm listening to "The Guillotine" by Escape the Fate, which is one kick-arse band, thank you very much.

* * *

_Chapter One  
_"_In Which A Task Is Given"_

"Come on, give me envy!"

Shay made a jealous, envious look at the camera in my hands.

Flash.

I put the camera down and gave my friend a thumbs up and a smile. He grinned and bounced over beside me, eagerly waiting to see what I'd come up with.

Shay Morgans was one of my roommates and my best friend. He has straightened, sleek jet-black hair that swooshes to one side of his face. He has ice blue eyes that are constantly sparkling with emotion. He has two silver lip rings, one on either side of his mouth, and a smile that could make your heart melt. He's stick thin and 5'10", and wears the tightest girls' jeans and t-shirts to accentuate this great figure.

He is, to be frank, one insanely gorgeous emo boy. Too bad he's gay, eh? Except not really, because then I wouldn't have my gay super buddy.

"I wanna see," he said, poking me in my side, right under my ribcage. "Hurry up, Jude!!"

"Patience, Shayla!"

He pouted at me and crossed his arms over his bony chest. "Please?"

"Nope! You know The Rule."

"The Rule" being that no one saw my photos until I had touched them up with Photoshop. Ran them through effects and stuff, y'know? They always had to be _perfect _before anyone could see them.

"Oh, fine!" Shay flopped down on the middle seat of the couch, sighing dramatically. What a drama qu—king.

The door to the small house that me and my roommates shared opened, and in walked Lizzy Way, my best girl friend and other roommate.

"I have arrived!" she declared with a dramatic pose. I laughed. My friends were completely insane.

Lizzy was a few inches shorter than Shay and I, at 5'7". She's thin, but not Shayla thin. She has dyed red-or-orange hair that fell to her shoulders with swooshy bangs over the side of her face. Her hazel eyes, which were perpetually ringed with color, were currently lined with lime green eyeliner and pale green eyeshadow. Lizzy was a walking hurricane of color, never far from bright yellow or green shirts, funky skirts, or Vans with little penguins or hippos on them.

Between Shay and Lizzy, there is never a dull moment in our house. They were the best roommates and friends that I could ever ask for.

"So, what's the assignment this time, Jude?" Lizzy asked, flopping down next to Shay on the couch.

"Posed shots," I recited. "Pick one person, preferably someone you know, and get them to model for you."

"Well, why didn't you ask me to model for you?!" she gasped.

"Cuz I'm hotter," Shay smirked at her. Lizzy stuck out her tongue at him.

"Cuz he wasn't off around campus," I said, sitting down between them. "And I already took pictures of you."

Lizzy heaved a sigh and crossed her arms. (Sometimes I really wondered if her and Shay were separated at birth. They acted so much alike sometimes that it was creepy.) "Okay, fine. But I wanna see the Shayla pics before you turn them in!"

I smiled. For some reason, the two of them were intensely interested in my photography. Just like I loved Shay's music, and how I always went to Lizzy, Miss Psychology major, for advice. We were a family; I guess that's why we were always so interested in each other's lives.

"Of course I'll show you," I said, rolling my light blue eyes. "Do I ever not?"

"No," Lizzy admitted, looking over at me. Of course—I always showed them my photos the night before I had to turn them in—which was tomorrow, Monday. For now, I had to run all fifteen shots of Shay through Photoshop and then print them onto photo paper. Then I could show them the finished products.

"You can see them tomorrow," I told her. She playfully shoved me, causing me to shove Shay, who let out an indignant gasp and shoved me. I shoved Lizzy. Lizzy shoved me. I shoved Shay.

This went on for several minutes, until we all were giggling too hard to continue. These two giggling people were my best friends, my roommates, my only family that I really had. They were all I needed.

* * *

The second I turned eighteen, my mom and her boyfriend kicked me out of our house. The day after my birthday, there was a moving truck with my stuff loaded into it. I was hurt, but not surprised. Mom and Don had done the same to my older sister, Sadie, three years earlier. I didn't see my sister again until her funeral, a year after she left. She had been hit by a car. 

I used my entire college fund to pay for an apartment to get through my senior year of high school. It was only because of extremely harsh study sessions and a lot of hard work that I actually got a four-year scholarship to this college.

I hadn't spoken to my family since they'd kicked me out.

Now I was three weeks into my freshman year, and I have never been happier.

* * *

On Tuesday, I walked into my photography class, my folder of Shay pictures held tight in my hands. I took my seat, near the middle of the class, and quietly waited for class to begin. 

Professor Hudgens called the attention of the class a few minutes later. Miss Hudgens was probably my favorite teacher—she really gave us a lot of creative freedom, but pushes us to do better than we thought that we could. She's a thin woman about my height with shoulder length blonde hair, and green eyes.

"All right, everyone, before you hand in your latest assignment, I'd like to tell you what your new assignment will be."

I give her my full attention—I had become used to paying intense attention in class. After all, if I didn't have great grades, I could lose my scholarship, and if that happened, I was pretty much screwed.

"This is an all year project," Miss Hudgens explained, eyeing us each in turn. "It's going to count a lot for your final grade, so _don't _procrastinate on this."

There was a murmur of worry across the classroom. I wasn't included in the noise, but I frowned nonetheless.

"Your subject will be e-mailed to you," Miss Hudgens continued, causing the room to fall silent once again. "The assignment is to take candid shots of your subject, really capturing who they are, without them realizing you're taking pictures. You are not to tell anyone in this class or out of it who you are taking pictures of unless you are _positive _that they won't tell anyone.

"You can use any coloring you would like, though I will require one full-color, one black and white, and one sepia-toned.

"This assignment is going to be your portfolio for the year. Make sure not to waste your time or mine with bad shots—I want good, clear, strong pictures. Can you do it?"

A few enthusiastic "yeah!"s rippled through the back row, while the rest of us nodded and mumbled our affirmatives.

Miss Hudgens smiled. "Well, all right—pass you assignments this way."

* * *

That night, Lizzy, Shay, and I were all huddled up on the couch, watching House. Shay was in the middle, as per usual, and I was on the side with my laptop balanced on my knees. 

In my inbox was an e-mail labeled "Subject". I opened it and read through it.

Holy crapping shizz.

Shay paused the show (thank the Lord for tiVo) and both of my friends leaned in to read through the e-mail. Nosy. Lizzy gasped, followed by Shay saying, _"LE GASP! _Dmn, girl, you're lucky! He's _fine!" _

The e-mail read:

_Jude,_

_I've assigned you to take pictures of Tom Quincy. He's a senior and a music major, and seems like he would be an interesting subject. I really believe that you'll put out a great portfolio. Don't let me down._

_-Ms. Hudgens_

_Picture is attached, if you aren't sure who he is._

If I'm not sure who he is?

Give me bad boy.

Flash.

Give me smoking hot.

Flash.

Give me Tommy Q, every girl on campus's naughty dream.

Flash.

* * *

**A/N:** All right, so this chapter is really short, and mostly an intro to the first half of the main characters. I promise that this DOES get better, ha. And this fic's going to last for a while, as it is outlined to be roughly 31 chapters. So you're in for a long ride. ;) Anyway, I really hope y'all like this. Review, please! I'll post a new chapter soon. 


	2. In Which Shay Pretends to be Straight

A/N: Oh my GOSH, 17 reviews in less than a week?! Y'all are amazing. I'm sooo glad you like this. :)

Disclaimer: Lyrics used are from "Heels Over Head" by Boys Like Girls. I own Shay, Lizzy, Ty, and my plot. Nothing else.

Note2: I'm currently listening to "Dark Blue" by Jack's Mannequin, which I adore. It is so awesome.

_Chapter Two  
_"_In Which Shay Pretends To Be Straight"_

It was now Saturday, and I was forcing myself out of bed. (I really liked to sleep in. There's just not much appeal in waking up on a Saturday morning for no good reason. Of course, now I had a reason—I had to get Shay to show me where Tommy would be, the little stalker.)

Anyway, the light was shining in through the windows of the bedroom the three of us shared, and I was half-dead, or, if you would rather call it, half-asleep.

Of course, if I'm going to be awake, so is Shay. I grab my pillow and beam Shay over the head with it. Shay groaned and pulled his own pillow over his head. He was lying on his stomach. I've always wondered how he managed to sleep like that without suffocating. "Shayla! Up!" I hit him with the pillow again. He whimpered pathetically. "C'mon, you gotta show me where Tommy is!"

I got no response. "Shay, don't make me hide your straightener again."

Shay shot up so fast that his covers tangled around him and caused him to fall to the floor with a thud. Seeing that he wasn't hurt, I laughed at him. What a dork! Shay was rather clumsy at times. He had been known to trip over the shoelaces of his Vans. (…Vans don't have shoelaces. See my point?)

Finally pulling out of my giggling fit, I offered Shay my hand and yanked him to his feet. I reached out my other hand and messed up his hair playfully.

"Stop," he whined, swatting my hand away. "It's hard enough that you're waking me up, but now you're gonna screw with my hair? Low, Harrison."

I grinned at him. "It's your fault for stalking Tommy, Shay. I can't help it if I need you!"

"I do _not _stalk him," Shay grumbled, crossing his arms. I raised an eyebrow at him. He sighed and unfolded his arms. "I stalk one of his _friends, _who is a hot piece of (arse)."

I giggled, "Tommy Q can wait—who's his friend?"

Shay smiled dreamily and said, "He looks just like Ryan." (Shay had a strange obsession with Ryan Ross. One of the many things we had in common.) "His name's Ty. He's got these, like, huge brown eyes and really soft looking brown hair and he's _so _poetic and he plays guitar, and he's in my music class and—" The smile crumpled. "—he's totally straight."

I scoffed, "Like that's ever stopped you before."

This was true—since the two of us had come to school (earlier, in the first week of June), Shay had, ah, helped quite a few guys on campus figure out their, erm, sexuality. I, on the other hand, had not been able to get one guy to ask me out.

Anyway, the point is that no guy is completely straight in the presence of Shay. He just had to push them a bit to make them realize it.

Shay's smile was back as he hugged me. "Thanks, Jude. You're the best."

Then he ran off to get ready.

* * *

The first day I met Shay is a day that I doubt I'll ever forget.

I walked into the housing office, annoyed because I didn't have a place to stay. (My original roommate, Kat something, had had someone hack the rooming map and switch me out of it. Btch.)

"Excuse me?" I called, glancing around the room. The only person in there was a gorgeous emo boy flipping through a Spin magazine with Panic! at the Disco on the cover. He looked up at me as I looked around helplessly. "They'll be back in a minute," he said, his voice carrying a slight lit that vaguely reminded me of Marco Delrossi. He paused and then rolled his eyes. "At least that's what they told me two fuh-riggin' hours ago. I mean, dmn, if the girl's gonna bang the dude to get a different roommate, she should do it on her own time."

I was a bit surprised that this guy was talking to me, but he seemed all right, so I sat down beside him. From this angle, I could see that the magazine was open to the first page of the Panic! article. "I love them," I said quietly, without really thinking.

He grinned at me, teeth and lip rings gleaming. "They're awesome," he said, eyes twinkling. "What's your favorite song?"

Without hesitation, I replied, "'Time To Dance'."

"_Me too!" _He was very excitable, that was for sure. "Have you read _Invisible Monsters?"_

_"Yes!" _Okay, maybe I was a bit excitable as well. "It's one of my favorite books!"

"Mine too! Brandy Alexander is just the most amazing character ever."

We babbled about _Invisible Monsters _for a while, excited to find another fan, before finally switching the topic to why we're here.

"My dad didn't want me in the dorms," he said, rolling his eyes again. "He was like, 'Shane, you don't need to be rooming with other guys. Just use this money and rent a house or something.' So, now I get to live by myself twenty minutes off campus, which really sucks."

"Why doesn't he want you rooming with other guys?" I asked, completely confused.

"Cuz I'm gay," he explained, "and he doesn't like it. That's why I'm here so early—my dad made me leave."

"Ugh, welcome to the club," I replied, getting over the shock of his first few words. "My parents kicked me out the day after my eighteenth. I'm just lucky to get a full ride."

"That really sucks," he nodded. We were silent for a moment before he burst, "Hey—I have a way to solve both of our problems!"

"And what would that be?"

"Well, you need a place to stay and I need a roommate! You could stay with me, if you want." He seemed very excited about this idea.

"I don't know your name," I said as a reply. I trusted him, yeah, but I'd only known him for like, forty-five minutes.

"Oh, duh. I'm totes rude," he said, smiling again. He held out his hand, which I shook. "I'm Shane Morgans, like, Shane McFarland but not, but you can just call me Shay."

I giggled. "Like the rapper?"

Shay giggled a bit as well. (Yep, he was definitely straight as a circle.) "He's _fine,_" he said, smirking. "But not as fine as my first love." He held up his magazine and tapped a black and white picture of Ryan Ross.

"I'm Jude," I told him, realizing I hadn't introduced myself either. "Jude Harrison."

"Like the Beatles song?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, like the Beatles song."

"So, Miss Jude Harrison, would you like a place to stay?"

"That I would, Mr. Shay Morgans, that I would."

* * *

"Okay, let's go," Shay said, now in present time. He tilted his head to one side and looked at me strangely. "What's wrong?"

Give me remembrance.

Flash.

Give me nostalgia.

Flash.

"Huh? Nothing. Why?"

Shay shrugged. "You were spaced out. Like…majorly."

"Meh, whatever. I was just thinking. Nice shirt," I added as an afterthought.

He was wearing a slim-fit black t-shirt that said "You are cordially invited to go screw yourself" on the front in white, cursive-like text. I was gonna have to borrow that from him one day.

"Heh…it was going to be your birthday present, but then I realized that 'oh four dash oh nine' meant April 9th, not September 4th, so…" He paused and shook his head, his now-straightened hair swooshing around with it. "Mmkay, so, like I said, let's go."

Lizzy would normally be coming with us on something as crazy as this, but she had an early lecture on Saturdays. (Oh, well, sucks to be her.)

I grabbed my camera—a Canon SRL 20d, my most prized possession—and followed Shay out of our small house. (And yes, I say "our"—the three of us split the rent, after all.)

It was, as Shay had mentioned that first day, a twenty minute drive from the house to the school and the small college town surrounding it. Thankfully, all three of us had cars, so our conflicting schedules didn't make anyone late.

Now, me and Shay got into his Mercedes, Shay driving, me in the passenger seat, and Shay shoved the keys into the ignition. Immediately, the stereo started blasting "Heels Over Head" by Boys Like Girls. Shay and I sang along, loud and obnoxious, our windows rolled down to increase our annoying factor. We drove down the road belting, "_Now I'm heels over head! I'm hanging upside down! Thinking how you left me for dead, California-bound!"_

It was always like this—Shay was my twin when it came to musical taste. He loved the same obscure, underrated bands no one's ever heard of, as I do, and that—well, that's a first. He's the first person I've met that hasn't said, "The Academy Is…what?" or "Boys like girls? Uh, unless they like guys?"

Anyway, it was a pretty mild day here. Sunny, breezy, just warm enough, and peacefully quiet. Well, except for me and Shay being btches and ruining that quiet thing with our screaming, of course.

I remember Shay mentioning that some guy in his music class had overheard me singing and had loved it. I had gone red as a rose—my voice was really nothing special at all. I just like to sing; that didn't make me good at it.

"Here we are!" Shay exclaimed two songs later, pulling into a parking lot of a movie theater. "They're gonna be seeing some movie here around now…"

I did not bother asking how he knew this—it was like our pasts…you didn't bring it up. You just assumed that Shay knew because he's…well, he's Shay and he knows everything about everyone everywhere.

We walked into the theater after I had placed my camera in my purse. (There was no need to look suspicious, eh?)

Sure enough, three guys were hanging out by the doors to the main theaters. One of them was a guy with darker skin and black hair that was cut close to his scalp. His last name was West, and his first name was Kyle or Kory or something with a 'K'. Everyone just calls him Kwest.

The second guy was the guy Shay had told me about—Ty. It was insanely freakish how much he looked like Ryan Ross—if it weren't for his lack of eyeliner and pinstripes, I would probably have run up for an autograph. As it was, I refrained from doing so.

The last guy was him—Tom Quincy. He had short, styled brown hair and blue eyes that were piercing me from here, even when he was not looking my way. He wore normal jeans, a white t-shirt, and a leather bomber jacket. His image screamed "bad boy", but for some reason, his smile made me think differently. He was beyond hot.

"I'll go get us tickets," Shay said before disappearing off to the ticket booth.

Knowing Shay, he would probably get us into the same theater as Tommy, Kwest, and Ty. It was a bit strange that he knew all of this stuff, but it did come in handy.

While I waited for Shay to come back, I walked over to the concession counter and bought a medium popcorn, a small Coke, and a small Sprite. By the time the bimbo behind the counter—her nametag read "Eden"—finally got my order to me, Shay was standing beside me again, repeatedly poking me just below my ribcage on my side.

"So what're we going to be watching?" I asked as we back away from the counter. "Or, what're _they _watching, I should ask."

"Hannibal Rising," Shay said, cringing a bit. Both of us stopped, looked at each other, looked at Tommy and Co., and shuddered. Neither of us were big fans of gore.

Oh, well…you gotta do what you gotta do. I'm sure we would survive.

"Hey, Shay!"

Ty was waving over at us. I raised an eyebrow at Shay, smirking slightly. "I didn't know that you've _talked _to him," I whispered.

Shay's pale face was now tinted with pink. "Heh…I didn't mention that we're kind of friends?" He waved the straightest wave I've ever seen him wave.

"Uh, nope."

Ty walked up to us, smiling under his tan pageboy hat. "Hey! 'Sup, man?"

"Not much, dude."

I raised my eyebrow even higher. Shay was acting not-Shayish. It was so…strange.

"Are you Shay's girlfriend?" Ty asked me. I blinked at Shay, not quite sure what to say.

"No, dude, this is Jude, one of my roommates," Shay answered, to my relief.

"Oh! So _you're _the Almighty Jude," Ty said, smiling even wider. "Shay never shut up about you!"

"Ha, really?" I wasn't looking at him, as cute as he was. I was giving Shay a '_why are you faking? We're gonna talk about this later, boy _PLEASE' look. Shay shot me a look in return.

Give me guilt, baby.

Flash.

Give me shame.

Flash.

Give me need.

Flash.

"So, what're you guys seeing?"

Shay flashed up our tickets, bring a surprised look from Ty. "Whoa—dude, you're going to see Hannibal?"

Shay nodded, a hint of smugness coming in. "Yeah, it looked good. _Silence of the Lambs _was pretty awesome."

"I love that movie," Ty replied. "Hey—you guys can come sit with us!"

Shay's face lit up. "Okay!"

So this, my friends, is how I ended up sitting between Shay and—you guessed it—_Tommy, _watching some guy eat people. Un. Be. Lievable.

I never did well with scary movies. Back before my dad had "toured his travel agent" (to quote my mother), leading to their divorce, he had taken me to all sorts of scary movies. Slash flicks were always the worse.

I let out a gasp and grabbed the hand closest to mine—Tommy's. Oops. He glanced over at me, raising an eyebrow in my direction. I quickly moved my hand, blushing. (Strange, though, how my hand suddenly felt so cold.) For once, I was glad for the darkness—he couldn't see how dark my face had surely become.

"Don't like scary movies?" he asked me, amusement clear in his voice.

"No…don't like scary movies," I replied in a whisper. (Neither, just for the record, did Shay, who was cutting off circulation to my other hand while pretending to Ty that it didn't bother him.)

Tommy then did something that surprised me—he took my hand and squeezed it. "It's not so bad once you realize how fake it is," he said quietly. "I mean, look—do you really think that there's some French guy with a British accent running around eating people?"

This made me laugh softly. "No—no, probably not." It did seem rather ridiculous now that I really thought about it. Suddenly the movie was insanely cheesy.

This didn't really help Shay, though, who was staring straight at the screen, somehow managing to bite his lip, rings and all. His eyes were huge, and he flinched every time something bad happened. Maybe that'll teach him to be something he's not. It only gets you unable to freak out, which scares you even more.

The movie ended a while later, and Shay let go of my hand. As I was about to stand up, I realized that Tommy had not.

Give me confusion.

Flash.

Give me some happiness I'm unable to describe.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: THERE IS YOUR CHAPTER! WOOT! 


	3. In Which Music Will Tie

A/N: Woot for a new chapter like whoa? LOL.

Note2: I'm listening to "Misery Business" by Paramore, which is an AWESOME song. Paramore rocks. And they're almost my age and come from a town like, an hour away from me. OO

* * *

_Chapter Three  
__"In Which Music Will Tie"_

I hadn't gotten a picture that day, which I realized while Shay and I were driving home. I swore loudly and banged my head against the seat. "_God, _I'm so _stupid!" _I exclaimed, groaning.

"Wha?" Shay looked confused. (He was using his normal voice now that it was just us.)

"I didn't get a picture."

"Oh. Well, uh, that sucks, girl."

After getting over my mini-pity party, I remembered that I was supposed to lecture Shay. "What was that about back there?" I asked, giving him a dark look.

"What was what about?"

Oh, he is _not _going to play dumb with me. Heck no. "Wow, I don't know, _Shay, _maybe you acting not like yourself?"

Shay didn't look at me. He concentrated on driving. He had that guilty look again, that was for sure. "I don't know."

"Shayla—how do you expect to get him if he thinks if you're straight?"

"I don't know, Jude!" he repeated. "I don't know—I just really don't want them to know, okay?" He finally met my eyes as we hit a stoplight, seeming desperate.

"I'm not gonna tell him if you don't want him to know, Shay," I sighed, giving him the sad eyes. "You know I wouldn't do that to you."

I hope he enjoys being back in that stuffy little closet.

* * *

"Hello, missing friends!" Lizzy said when the two of us walked into the house. "Where were you guys?"

"At the movies," I explained. "One of us pretending to be straight and the other grabbing the hands of random guys in sheer terror."

Shay's guilty expression was going to become permanent if I didn't shut my face, but I honestly couldn't help it. I didn't understand his reasoning behind all of this.

"Wait—_pretending _to be straight?" Lizzy asked, eyeing me. "Do we need to talk, Jude?"

"Not me," I snapped, annoyed.

Lizzy studied Shay with her head tilted. He was looking at the floor. "Aww, c'mere, baby." She hugged him, her sweet personality making feel like an even bigger btch.

"I'm sorry, Shayla," I said genuinely, feeling horrible. "I just don't get it."

Shay and Lizzy pulled me into their hugging fest. "It's okay," Shay said quietly. "I don't get it either."

The three of us stood there for a moment, appreciating the closeness that we shared. When we finally took our normal places on the couch, we were all a bit too quiet. It was awkward.

"So…who was there?" Lizzy finally broke the silence, directing her question at me.

"Well, we went to find Tommy," I told her. "So he was there, with that Kwest dude and this guy Ty."

"Oh, my God, I never asked, did I?" Shay gasped. "What happened with you two in Jommyland?"

"Jommy?" I asked slowly.

"Jude…and…Tommy?"

"Oh." Well, this was going to be an embarrassing story to tell. "I…got a bit freaked out by the movie and kind of grabbed his hand without thinking…" Now I didn't have the cover of movie theater darkness to hide the blood rushing to my cheeks. "He…well, he comforted me, I guess, and he, uh…he held my hand the rest of the movie."

The noise Lizzy made could only be described as, "SQUEE!!" She bounced up and grinned at me. "_Jude! _That's _awesome!"_

I shrugged. Awesome…wasn't exactly the word that I was looking for. Surprising, unexpected, maybe. Nice…yeah, definitely. I didn't really think that bad boy Tom Quincy would have been nice like that. Not after the first time I'd seen him.

* * *

It was roughly two weeks after I'd moved from the crappy apartment I called home. At this point, me and Shay were already inseparable.

We were taking a French class over the summer, mostly just to have something to do. (And partly to scope out the other people on campus.)

Coming out of the class, laughing and spouting random French to each other, we decided to go and walk around campus.

About ten minutes later, we see this guy with a leather bomber jacket laying into this other guy, as if saying, _"See this? It's my fist. It doesn't like you. Prepare to die."_

This—this was not like high school, where everyone stood around, screaming and cheering. This was different, and somehow a thousand times worse.

Here was this guy, Tom Quincy, as I would come to know him, and he was beating the sht out of the other guy, who ended up being that Kwest dude. The fight, as gossip had it, was started because of some girl.

It was pretty horrible to watch, actually. I just stood there, frozen by the sight of blood, remembering every time I'd seen Jamie Andrews—who had been my best friend until the beginning of junior year—get beat up by all the jocks that thought he was a nerd. (Jamie was, in fact, a nerd, but that is beside the point.)

Several four letter words were being tossed back and forth between the two brawling young men. Blood was going everywhere, making it look more like the set of a slasher flick than a normal college campus.

Shay finally gently grabbed my arm and led me away from the fight, an unspoken _You don't need to see this _in his pale blue eyes.

From that day until the day at the movies, I couldn't get his enraged expression out of my mind. He was always Tommy ScaryBadBoy to me.

* * *

On Tuesday, the three of us piled into my car and went to the local Morgan's Records. All three of us worked there, same shifts. This might be because Shay's dad owns the chain of stores. (Leading to the fact that Shayla is a rich boy, nananananananananananana.)

The record store was located in a strip mall out in town. There was a salon, a mini-grocery store, a photography place, the record store, a coffee place, and a Dollar General.

Out store got most of the business. This was, after all, a college town, and we sold music, instruments, and candy, the three staples of life.

I pulled my lanyard (with my nametag clipped to the bottom) over my head and took my place behind one of the cash registers. Lizzy joined me, working the register to my left. Shay started attempting to get people to buy instruments by playing songs on them.

That's something to know about Shay. He's a musical genius. He plays guitar, bass, piano, drums, trumpet, bells, even the freakin' accordion. It's totally insane, because he plays them all _really _well. We usually sell at least one instrument each day that he plays.

"Hey, d'you know where the pop section is?" A girl with bubblegum pink highlights in her brown hair asked me, standing in front of the counter and smacking her gum like a cow.

I pointed to the large sign that read "POP", less than ten feet away. The girl squealed and thanked me, then bounced off toward the sign.

Stupid people really bother me. I have to deal with them…a lot. Stupid people with no musical taste are even worse. I am forced to deal with them as well, unfortunately.

The piano for "But It's Better If You Do" rang through my ears. A reasonably large crowd was gathered around the piano, watching Shay do his thing. Good. Now no one was coming up to the registers. I propped my elbow up on the counter and rested my chin in my hand. I blankly stared at the poster which screamed, "Warped Tour 2008! This summer!" Woo. Like I'd be able to go.

The bell above the door chimed in over the piano, and in walked none other than Tommy. Really, now, I thought I was supposed to be stalking him, not the other way around.

I snapped to attention and pulled my camera from my bag. He was preoccupied, studying the various types of guitar strings in the display. (That display had been a btch to set up, let me tell you.) I quickly got my camera ready, flash off, and took my picture. I'm not sure that Tommy looking at guitar strings is going to be too thrilling of a picture, but hey—I had a year to find _interesting. _I checked the picture on the screen of my camera and then quickly put it back in its place.

Yeah, I'm good, I'm good. Hold your applause.

I reached out and nudged Lizzy, who was in Fantasyland.

"Huh? What? I'm awake!"

"I know," I whispered. I nodded my head to where Tommy was.

"Ooo," she replied, hazel eyes widening. (Today, her theme was blue—turquoise eyeliner and sky blue eye shadow.) "I've never seen him in here before!"

"You've been working here for like a month," I whispered back. "He's only been in here once, I think. He came in the first week I was working here." Then, he'd bought a guitar.

Tommy walked up to the register—_my _register—and sat the strings in front of me. He studied me for a moment and smiled. "Doesn't like scary movies."

I smiled back, blushing a bit. "Nope." I rang up the strings and placed them in a plastic bag.

"Aren't you gonna ask me which kind of bag I want?" he asked, smirking playfully.

"Okay," I said, putting down the bag. "Plastic or plastic?"

He pretended to think it over. "Plastic. Hard decision, though."

I laughed. "Well, plastic boy, you total's ten-oh-six."

He pulled a twenty from his wallet and handed it to me. As I worked on his change, he turned his head and watched Shay. (Shay had now moved away from the piano and over to a bass. He was playing "Dance, Dance".) "You'd think he was the eighth world wonder or something," Tommy commented when I handed him his $9.94.

"Who, Shay?" I laughed again. "Eighth, ninth, and tenth. Duh."

Tommy nodded, taking his change and plastic bag. "He's got talent," he shrugged. "He just needs to do something with it."

"That's what I've been saying to him!" I exclaimed. "He's still trying to get a band together."

"Tell him I know people who would be interested," Tommy replied.

"I'll do that," I said. We stood there for a moment, just looking at each other.

"Well, I've got a paper on music theory due tomorrow," Tommy finally said, looking reluctant to leave.

"Oh." I didn't really want him to leave either. "Well, I'll see you around."

"A'ight," he said, the words running together a bit. "Later."

He walked out of the store and vanished into the night air. I watched after him, a smile still tugging at my lips.

"He totally likes you," Lizzy squealed, hitting me in the arm to snap me out of my trance. I only then remembered that she had been there, watching our conversation. "And, dmn, girl, I've never seen you flirt like that. You know how to work it!"

I rolled my eyes. "Living with you and Shay has its advantages," I offered as an explanation.

"This is true."

* * *

After our weekly House-watching routine, all three of us went to bed.

Our little house had two bedrooms. Until Lizzy had gotten here, Shay and I had our own rooms. When she'd shown up, the two of us moved my stuff into his room, seeing as we knew each other more.

(I can just see the letter home, if my parents actually cared: "Hey, mom, Don, I'm doing fine in college. I'm sharing a room with a guy, but he's gay so don't worry. Love, Jude.")

Lizzy was also the one who had to leave early, and Shay and I would rather sleep in than be woken up by her getting ready.

Shay was now fast asleep, but my mind wouldn't allow me to. I couldn't stop thinking of Tommy's smile. It was driving me crazy. I didn't have time for any of this crap now—I had to keep my grades up, had to work, had to…

Yeah, that wasn't working.

I really need sleep. Or caffeine. That works too.

Give me love, baby.

Flash.

Give me fear.

Flash.

Give me a clue.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: So there you have it! The new chapter. Yay? LOL, hope you guys liked it. 


	4. In Which an Old Love is Remembered

A/N: Jeez. 45 reviews for 3 chapters. Y'all are AMAZING. Thank you soo much! Here's your new chapter. :D

Note2: I am currently listening to "Over-Rated" by, duh, Alexz Johnson/Jude.

_

* * *

_"_In Which An Old Love Is Remembered"_

In the eleventh grade, I met three guys: Vincent Spiederman (who would only go by his surname), Wally Robbins, and Kyle Bateman. These guys were some of my closest friends that year, as Jamie hadn't had any classes with me.

One day, near the beginning of the year, I walked into the one class we all shared to Spiederman, looking confused, and Wally and Kyle, looking amused.

"What's going on?" I asked, taking my seat beside Spiederman. I tucked my then-cherry-red hair behind my ear and watched them.

"Dude…" Spiederman said after a second. "They're trying to say that you can be your own grandpa…"

Spiederman was usually the type to be spitting out stupid stuff, not the one confused by it. This was an odd change. I blinked at him, then at Wally and Kyle. "How, exactly?" I asked.

As the two of them explained—well, let's just say that I soon joined Spiederman in Confusionland.

Give me discombobulation.

Flash.

Give me "what the mess?"

Flash.

* * *

All right. Going to the same movie as them, okay. Snapping a picture of him at work, fine. But this was ridiculous. Not to mention borderline stalking.

Gah. Anything for the sake of my assignment.

Shay, Lizzy, and I were sitting by the fountain in front of the class that Ty and Tommy were going to come out of. We were all drinking sodas, looking bored. None of us even _had _classes today. We could've been home or at the mall like always.

"I feel like a stalker," I muttered to Shay, who had come up with the idea.

"You pretty much _are_," Shay whispered back. "Following the dude around with a camera is like, beyond stalking."

"Oh, shut up, it's not my fault."

"You're, like…the stalkarazzi," Shay continued, looking over at Lizzy who nodded in agreement.

"Do you _want _me to push you into the fountain?" I asked flatly. "Cuz that can totally be arranged, Shayla."

Shay turned and looked at the nasty, coin-filled water behind us and said, "Eh…I'll pass."

"I thought so," I said, slightly smugly. "Oh, look—there they are."

Ty and Tommy were walking out of the building to our left, carrying books at their sides and talking. Tommy was still wearing his bomber jacket and faded jeans, this time with a grey shirt. Ty was wearing a black Third Eye Blind concert-t and a pair of blue jeans that very possibly could've been girls' jeans, though they may have just been a bit tight on him.

I raised my camera to my eyes and snapped a picture. Two pictures in two weeks—heckz yeah, I rock. He still hadn't caught on. (Thank God.)

I looked over at Shay, who was watching Ty with a sad expression.

Give me longing.

Flash.

Give me that need again.

Flash.

I leaned over to him and whispered, "He's wearing girl pants…you have a chance!"

Shay went scarlet and buried his head in his hands, embarrassed because, y'know, I'm right. Oops. "Jude," he said, voice muffled. "Do you _want_ me to push you into the fountain? Cuz that can totally be arranged."

"_What? _I'm just trying to help," I pouted.

"She's right, Shayla," Lizzy added teasingly, backing me up. "You should go for it."

"He thinks I'm straight," Shay said, looking up again.

"Who's fault is that?"

Shay frowned. "I'm not going to," he said, "ask him out. We're just friends."

"Psh. Whatever," Lizzy sighed. "Your loss."

* * *

The nickname "Shayla" came from the first day the two of us met Lizzy.

It was the week before classes officially started, and Shay and I were walking around town, bored and looking for something exciting. We found it, all right.

Two girls were standing in the Dollar General parking lot (the one by Morgan's Records, of course). One was an obvious street rat—punkish clothes that looked like they'd been pulled from a trashcan, dreadlocks, all over dirtiness. She was holding a glass beer bottle, occasionally taking sips from it while she listened to the other girl babble.

The other girl was a whirlwind of color. Bright red-orange hair, hot pink eyeshadow, hot pink tank top, red mini-skirt. She was talking enthusiastically. "So, is it fun to live in your car? I'm gonna end up living in my car, cuz my roommate's a whre and got someone to switch me out, so I get my car! Woo! What about you? Why do you live in _your _car?"

The street rat blinked slowly at the rainbow and then got into her beat up car and drove off, nearly running over me and Shay. The rainbow sat down on the ground, resting her chin on her hand. "God, I'm screwed," she said to no one.

I felt bad. I knew what it was like to have nowhere to go. "Should we help her?" I asked, not loud enough for her to hear. "I mean, how much would it suck to have to live in your car?"

Shay was already walking over to her. "Hey—you need a place to stay, girl?"

The girl looked up at us and smiled brightly. "Yes! I'm Elizabeth Alexandria Way—you can call me Lizzy." I guess living with two perfect strangers was better than living in your car.

Shay and I introduced ourselves, and Lizzy smiled. "I'm going to call you Shayla," she giggled to Shay.

"Okay—why?"

"You don't look straight enough to be a 'Shay'," Lizzy exclaimed.

I burst out laughing, and Shay hugged her. "Girl, you're gonna fit right in…"

* * *

Throughout the rest of the week, Lizzy and I left notes all around the house, saying various things such as:

"Ty + Shay LOVE!!"

"ASK HIM, SHAYLA!"

And, a repeated favorite, "GIRL PANTS, SHAYLA! GIRRRRL PANNNTS!"

Shay kept finding them all over the place. "So funny," he said sarcastically, holding up the first note. "And not gonna happen. Get over it."

"Nope! Not until you tell him!" Lizzy grinned, batting her purple mascara-covered eyelashes at him.

"Not going to."

"Then me and Jude will just have to keep writing notes!"

We did. Each note got more and more out there, until we finally started printing off Ryan Ross pictures and writing, "Ty Clone! Luff him!" on them.

Shay finally got fed up with it and refused to talk to either of us, which was rather depressing. He completely ignored us, at home, at school, and at work. I was starting to miss him, so I gave in.

"Okay, I'll stop," I told him. "Just stop being mean and ignoring me. It sucks." I must've looked really desperate—or else he just missed me too—because he hugged me.

"Fine, I'll stop ignoring you. Not Lizzy though—she's gotta cut the notes crap too." He frowned. "Cuz that's really annoying."

"I'll try to make her stop," I assured him, nodding. "It was getting old anyway."

Lizzy, of course, put up a fight against this, of course. She was having too much fun with the notes. After a few more days of getting the PMS-y cold shoulder from Shay, though, she caved as well. Of course, her cave in was much more dramatic than mine.

Electric blue eye-make-up half-down her face from the tears, she clung to Shay. "I'm sorry! Stop ignoring me, you big jerk!"

So, with that temporary mental breakdown over and done with, things got back to normal, which—for us—was not very normal at all.

* * *

"I'm bored."

"Me too."

"Let's watch a movie."

"Let's not."

Spiederman and I sat on the couch at my house, both bored out of our skulls. It was just one of those days, I guess, when we didn't do anything but laze about doing nothing. This tended to happen when it was just the two of us. And when Spiederman hadn't had his morning Red Bull, but that's a different story.

What we were really doing was waiting for Wally to get here with Kyle and his car so that we would have a ride to _Pirates of the Caribbean 2. _For some reason, though, they had not yet shown up.

"This is lame," Spiederman moaned, glaring at the door.

"Your face is lame," I told him, tone flat and bored.

"Your mom is lame."

"Your mom's mom is lame."

"Your mom's mom's _hairdresser's _mom is lame!"

"Okay," I laughed, "you win."

Spiederman looked smug. "I always do, Harrison."

"Well, except for that one time…"

"I thought we agreed not to bring that up again. Ever."

I giggled at the wide-eyed look on his face, and then shoved him playfully. "Dork," I teased.

Instead of shoving me back and calling me something as usual, he just looked at me.

Give me adoration.

Flash.

"Hey, Jude?" he said, suddenly seeming a bit anxious. His brown eyes did not leave my face.

"Yeah?" I stopped laughing as I realized how serious he was.

"I…I think I really like you. Like…more than a friend."

The next thing I knew, he was kissing me, slow and sweet.

* * *

Wednesday was always a slow day at Morgan's. Several people were at church, night classes, or hurrying to finish all of their papers due that Friday. Most of the time, there were only a few people in the store all night. This was the night where I would look over my pictures on my laptop while manning the cash register. (This was the one day we never needed two cashiers, and so Lizzy cleaned up and resorted the CDs. I had offered to do this, but I was the best at math of the three of us and EJ The Annoying Manager wouldn't let us switch.)

So now I leaned against the counter, staring intently at my Tommy photos. (I now had three—I had taken one of him leaning against the wall of the music building earlier today.) On all three pictures, I add back-lighting—as they were, they were too dark. On the picture where he was talking to Ty, I ran it through Channel Mixer, bringing out the greens of the grass behind him and the cyans and blues of his eyes and the sky. This was a bit intense, so I mellowed it out with a low-saturation layer.

There. Perfect.

I save the picture as "01" under _Portfolio _on my laptop, and then started working on the other two.

Give me concentration, baby.

Flash.

I didn't notice that someone was standing in front of me until he cleared his throat and said, "Jude?"

It was _him. _

* * *

"Why are you here, Speed?" I asked, angry at his timing.

He shrugged, giving me that innocent smile of his. "I heard that you were here and I thought I'd come say hi."

"Oh, right. You just happened to be in town," I shot sarcastically. I threw my keys down on the counter and turned back to face him, arms crossed.

"Well, yeah," Spiederman said. "Spiederman's Mind Explosion's really taken off, dude."

"For the last time, my name is _Jude."_

Give me anger.

Flash.

Give me bad memories.

Flash.

Give me a shotgun, cuz I'm a pop a cap in this (insert explicit of choice).

Flash.

"Well, sor_ry," _Spiederman shot back. "I'm sorry that it's so wrong to come and see how you're doing!"

"I don't _want _you coming to see how I'm doing!" I shouted, losing it. "You gave up that right when you cheated on me, you (arse)hole!"

_"Fine," _Spiederman replied. He looked hurt. It made me feel better for some reason. Possibly because he'd broken my heart when he'd cheated on me and I was _still _a bit angry at him. "Just—_fine. _You want to know why I really came here? To tell you that me, Wally, and Kyle are recording our first CD here. They wanted to see you…and so did I. But now I'm not so sure, _Jude."_

He left me standing there as he walked out of the house, out to his car, and hopefully out of my life for good.

"So, uh, who was that?" Shay asked, walking in just as Spiederman was walking out.

"No one," I said, glaring out the door. "Just a huge jack(arse) who can't take a hint."

* * *

Later, I realized that it would be sort of nice to see Wally and Kyle again. I just didn't want to deal with Spiederman. He was not my favorite person since our ugly break-up in the beginning of senior year. (This had been brought on by me walking in on Spiederman shoving his tongue down the throat of Wally's cousin, Monica. Oh, I beat the mess out of that skank.)

Wally and Kyle, though, had taken my side on the matter, and stayed friends with both of us. Unfortunately, I didn't see too much of them that year, and haven't spoken to either of them since I'd left.

I just needed someone to come with me. Emotional back-up or whatever. I'd probably just get Shay to come. Lizzy would be all over Spiderman, and that's really not what I needed.

Now, the problem was that I didn't know how to find them.

Give me clueless.

Flash.

Give me lost.

Flash.

Give me that shotgun…

Flash.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the lack of Jommy? Lol, there's some next chapter. :) I hope you guys liked this! Review, please. 


	5. In Which Old Friends Are Seen

A/N: Meep. 61 reviews. You guys are lovely. Here is the new chapter! Updating a bit early because I'm going to be at camp this week and won't be able to update otherwise. :)

Note2: I'm currently listening to "Lonely Man" by Audio Adrenaline, which, yes, I bought the CD for because this song was on the Hangman's Curse soundtrack.

Disclaimer: Lyrics in this chapter are from "The Great Escape" by Boys Like Girls. Not me.

* * *

_Chapter Five  
_"_In Which Old Friends Are Seen"_

I tried not to think about them for the next few days. It was infuriatingly hard, though, to keep my old friends out of my mind.

"Dmn, Jude, there aren't _that many _studios around here, y'know," Shay said while the three of us again ate lunch by the fountain. "Just knock on doors."

"Easy for you to say," I said, rolling my eyes. "You don't have to worry about your cheating ex-boyfriend answering the door."

"Trust me; been there, done that," Shay laughed. I messed up his hair.

Give me affection.

Flash.

Give me brother/sister love.

Flash.

_"Jude! _Don't do that," he whined, flattening his hair back into place. He pouted and mock-glared at me, which did nothing but make me giggle.

"Hey, look who it is," Lizzy giggled, smacking Shay in the arm. "Your loverrr."

Ty was walking towards us, smiling. (Shay blushed and gave Lizzy his Look Of Death.) I noticed with sadness that Tommy wasn't walking with him. "Hey," he said, sitting down in the space between Lizzy and Shay. Lizzy shot me a miffed look over his head.

"'Sup," Shay said, again in his "no, of course I'm straight" voice. Lizzy clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggling over this. I had a strong feeling that Shay desperately wanted to push her into the fountain.

"Sht—Lizzy, I left my laptop in the car," I suddenly burst, standing up. "C'mon, come with me to get it."

"But—" Lizzy looked confused as I dragged her off. "Jude, your laptop is at—"

"I know," I said, looking back toward the fountain at Shay, who flashed me a grin. "Let them have their moment, mmkay?"

"Ugh. Fine."

* * *

One day, in my eighth grade year, I realized that I wanted to be a photographer. There's really not much of a story to this realization, actually, but it was a day that changed my life. 

It all started with my older sister Sadie's seventeenth birthday. She wasn't having any friends over, wasn't having a big party. It was just me and her, waiting for mom and Don to come home. See if they remembered.

Give me neglect.

Flash.

Give me pain.

Flash.

Sadie was fiddling with a disposable camera that had been lying around. Her eyes were watering, but she was stubborn—she never let me see her cry. (She seemed to think that she needed to be strong for the both of us.) After a few minutes, she handed the little camera to me.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked blankly, studying her.

"Take a picture." She laughed bitterly. "I want to remember the day that _no one _remembered my birthday."

"I remembered," I said softly, looking at her with big eyes.

"You don't matter."

I never told her how much that hurt me.

Flash.

* * *

A few days later, after a ton of nagging, Shay finally agreed to come with me to try and find the SME boys. My guess was that he was glad that I had pulled Lizzy away before her giggling blew his disguise, and so he was grateful. That and the fact that, y'know, I would get hopelessly lost, and also that Shay is just awesome. 

So now we were traveling around town, looking in every studio, warehouse, or known recording house, trying to figure it out.

The Boys Like Girls CD was again blasting, and we were again singing obnoxiously loud. _"Throw it away! Forget yesterday! We'll make the great escape! We won't hear a word they say! They don't know us anyway!"_

I stopped the music as Shay parked the car in front of another recording house. Well, more like a trashy recording building. Okay, fine, if we're being totally honest it was more of a ridiculously disgusting rehearsal space. "Which room are we looking for?" I asked tiredly. We had been searching all day, and so far we had only found weird stoners.

"Uh, six-twenty," Shay replied, looking at the building with distaste. I probably had a similar expression.

Give me disgust.

Flash.

Give me "please, no rodents…"

Flash.

The two of us made our way into the building.

People say that you can't judge a book by its cover, but in this case, I'm quite sure that you can. It's just…ew. I let out a strangled shriek as a huge white rat ran across the floor, only a few feet away from me. "Shay, let's go, this isn't worth it, they're probably not even here…"

"C'mon, Jude, let's just check…"

Um, hello, dear, did you not just see that _hu-freaking-mongeous rat?! _

I followed him anyway.

* * *

Mom and Don showed up late that night—the night of Sadie's birthday, that is. It was nearly two in the morning when I finally heard the door open and shut. 

I never slept back then. After my parents had gotten divorced and Don had come into the picture, I'd never really been able to. Sadie wasn't asleep either. She was still downstairs, waiting, probably drinking a diet Pepsi and staring broodingly at the door.

From my room, I listened to the fight exploding downstairs.

"Where have you been?" Sadie snapped.

Give me anger.

Flash.

Give me open wounds.

Flash.

"Out, Sadie," mom replied, flighty as usual.

"Don't speak to your mother like that," said Don. (I found it mildly hilarious how he pretends that he's our father, acting like he had any say in how we act. Idiot.)

"Do you even know what day it is?" Sadie was glaring at them, I could tell by her tone.

"Tuesday," mom answered. "Or, Wednesday, now. Why are you still awake, Sadie?"

_"How could you forget?" _Sadie's voice was thick with tears. Mom had done it now.

"Go to bed, Sadie," mom snapped back. "Stop being ridiculous!"

_"No! How can you not know, mom?"_

_"What are you talking about?"_

"It's my birthday! How could you forget?!"

Their voices dropped below an eavesdroppable level. I took the disposable camera from where I'd placed it on my bedside table and stood up.

I started arranging things in my room into still-life-esque arrangements. I turned on my desk light.

Flash.

Clickclickclickclickclick.

Flash.

I turned the wheel again. Clickclickclickclickclick.

I went from different angles, flashing pictures of the same thing until the wheel didn't catch, signaling that I had used up all of my films.

For some reason, I felt better.

* * *

We got to room 620 without much more incident. I knocked on the door, praying both that one of the SME guys would answer and that the rust on said door wouldn't give me lockjaw or something equally unpleasant. 

The door opened, and I realized that only one of my prayers had come true.

"We've _got _to stop meeting like this," Tommy smirked, leaning on the door frame and looking straight at me with those blue eyes.

Getting over my initial shock, I asked, "What're you doing here?"

"Side job," Tommy replied. "I'm producing." He paused, the smirk deepening. "But I think the real question is what're _you _doing here?"

"I'm looking for someone."

"Who?"

"A band called Spiederman Mind Explosion," I said, crossing my arms and smirking back.

Almost immediately, two guys crashed into Tommy from behind, just about sending him flying. He definitely lost his cool demeanor for a moment, that's for sure.

The two guys were Wally and Kyle, who had barely changed since I'd last seen them. Wally was still wearing a trucker hat over his brown curls, and Kyle was wearing that AC/DC shirt that he had worn at least twice a week since I'd met him.

"You came!" Wally said, ducking around Tommy to get out to me.

"Thought you weren't gonna show, dude," Kyle said, following suit.

"I just came to see you guys," I said, hugging both of them. "I really don't want to see Speed."

Both of them mumbled and shrugged uncomfortably. Dorks.

"So," Tommy said, grabbing my attention again. "How exactly do you know these morons?"

The 'morons' in question let out indignant, slightly explicit phrases aimed at Tommy. Tommy rolled his eyes at them.

"Old friends," I explained, laughing. I suddenly remembered that Shay was there, and quickly said, "Guys, this is Shay. He's one of my roommates and he's my best friend."

"Sup, dude?" Kyle said to him, proceeding to do some weird handshake that must be like, encoded into every male's DNA. The three guys burst into conversation about music. Their conversation had not slowed when we got into the actual 620 and shut the door.

"C'mere," Tommy said, taking my hand. "I want to show you something."

I followed him without protest, because for some reason he seemed to radiate something that made me trust him. He led me up the stairs, to a loft, and then out a door to the fire escape.

The view was not, of course, that of a mountain top, but it was still pretty awesome. All of the buildings, which had looked so disgusting from the street, did not look half as bad from here.

"Look," Tommy said, touching my shoulder lightly with one hand and pointing at the building next to us.

On the ground level, there was a mural. Bright colors, spray painted pictures, names, everything. Tommy explained in a soft voice, "Me, Kwest, and Ty have been working on this since we started renting 620."

"You three did all of that?" I asked, a bit stunned.

Tommy nodded. "Kwest did most of the pictures—me and Ty take care of the words."

In large, eye-catching words was the phrase, "If you ain't livin', you're dyin'."

"No one's got onto us about it yet," Tommy continued. "So we just keep adding to it." He pointed to where _Spiederman's Mind Explosion _was written. "We're adding the names of bands that record here. So far we've got…eh, well, one. But we're working on it."

I smiled. It was pretty awesome of him to show me this—it seemed to be so personal. "Thanks," I said as we walked back inside, my hand still enclosed in his.

"Hey, anything for you, girl."

* * *

By the time we got home, it was dark out and I had gotten three cell phone numbers and several more pictures. (It's pretty good that Tommy is a bit inattentive that way—it makes my job _much _easier.) 

I hadn't been forced to see Spiederman because apparently he was being a cheating spaz somewhere other than the "studio".

Lizzy was asleep when we got back, which was really no surprise, as we came through the doors at around midnight. I had forgotten about the fact that, oh, yeah, I did have a truckload of homework to do. Oops. Whatever, it was totally worth it.

"Your friends are pretty cool," Shay said, yawning. "We should totally hang out with them more."

"Yeah, we should." I was glad that the three of them had gotten along so well. After a few moments of tired silence, I said, "Shay, you're more freaked out by rats and spiders than I am. How come you didn't want to leave when I did?"

Shay smirked slightly and said, "I might've known who rents the place."

I playfully shoved him as I laughed, "You _dork!" _

Shay grinned. "You know you love me for it."

"Duh. …Aw, it would've been so cool if Ty had been there."

"Yeah, seriously," Shay replied. He dive-bombed onto the couch. "But I think he was going to see his sister or something."

It better be his "sister", or I'm gonna have to smack a btch. That guy isn't gonna jack around with Shay's heart and then date some random skank instead. Oh, no. He would have "Almighty Jude" to deal with then. "That's cool."

Shay shrugged. "I guess."

"Well…I'm gonna start working on my shtload of homework," I finally said, having realized that conversation was dying.

"Have fun with that," Shay smirked. He stood up and went back to our room.

I flipped open my laptop and started finishing off one of my essays.

Give me concentration.

Flash.

Give me dedication.

Flash.

Give me a break.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: Hope y'all liked! Review, please. :) 


	6. In Which A Secret Comes Out

A/N: Yay for a new chapter? Woot, woot? Ha, ha, I don't have anything witty to say right now, so sorry for the delay and enjoy the chapter.

Note2: I'm currently listening to "When I Get Home" by Mayday Parade, which is actually part of the new episode of the oh-so-awesome Man of the Hour Hour podcast. Check Man of the Hour out, okay? Especially if you love to laugh, like hearing new music, or are a Simple Plan fan. (It's Seb from Simple Plan and Patrick, their merch dude, who is WICKED AWESOME.)

_Chapter Six  
_"_In Which A Secret Comes Out"_

Lizzy and I took a much needed girls' day out the next Saturday. We really hadn't spoken much since classes had gotten crazy, and I was wanting to get back to where we were—really good friends.

Our first destination was the mall.

The mall was always overflowing with all different sorts of people. From the little fourteen-year-old emo kids stalking the Hot Topic to the rich preppy kids buying pre-ripped jeans from Hollister and Abercrombie to all the parents and their screaming little kids at the toy stores to the nerds in the book and computer stores, _everyone _was here all the time.

Now, Lizzy and I were in Journey's, looking at the displays of Vans and Converse. Lizzy was flirting with some guy that worked there—his nametag read "Carter"—while she pulled on a pair of Vans with bright stripes on them. Typical, both the shoes and the flirting.

I looked longingly at a pair of plaid Vans, knowing full well that I couldn't afford to waste fifty dollars on a pair of shoes. Maybe in a few weeks I'll have enough to buy them and still be able to pay my third of the rent.

Yeah, I'll keep telling myself that.

* * *

It was November of my sophomore year when I got the phone call. I was home by myself, as mom and Don were M.I.A. I was watching Instant Star—this dumb talent search thing run by industry stiffs—and was annoyed by the fact that I had been interrupted. "Hello?" I said into the phone, just a tad irritably.

_"Is this—is this Jude Harrison?" _The voice was unfamiliar and ragged, and it sounded as though the speaker was crying.

"Yeah, who's this?" The irritation left my voice. I could tell now that something was wrong.

_"L-Lilly Black," _the girl sniffled. _"I'm Sadie's roommate."_

"Is she okay?" My heart was beating faster; faster than I ever imagined was possible.

_"N-no. Jude, she's—she walked to work b-because her c-car broke down, and—and a c-car—" _She broke into sobs. _"Jude, she's d-dead."_

The phone fell from my hands and hit the carpet with a dull thud. The thud seemed to echo in my mind as everything slowed. Dead? Sadie? No. There was no way. Just—_no._

My mind shut down and I switched to autopilot—my legs were what carried me from my living room to Jamie's house next door, my arm was what raised, my hand was what knocked, and when he answered the door, my mouth was what said, "Sadie's dead."

* * *

Lizzy got her shoes and that Carter guy got her number. After that was done with, we walked to the mall-branch of Morgan's. (The new Simple Plan DVD had come out a few weeks ago—I could afford _that _with my employee discount. And, yeah, I still listen to SP. Got a problem with that? I'll gladly tell you where to shove it.)

"Meep, did you see that guy?" Lizzy squealed. "He was so hot!"

"Mmmhmm," I mumbled. This wasn't going how I'd planned. I guess Lizzy was just too big of a flirt. Whatever, I guess that's not gonna change anytime soon. Just gotta roll with it.

"Soo," Lizzy said, drawing out the word, as we walked into the store. "Any ideas on how to get Ty and Shay together?"

Oh, lord. Here we go again.

Give me blank.

Flash.

Give me bored, baby, that's it!

Flash.

"I don't know…I guess we could like, lock them in a closet or something," I mused. That's always interesting.

"We totally should," Lizzy replied, a manic gleam in her eyes. (Today's theme was a mix of pink and blue.) "That would be so awesome and like…metaphorical."

I didn't need to ask what she meant by metaphorical. Shay. Ty. Closet. Doesn't take too much to string those thoughts together.

"All right. If we can figure out some way to make that happen without them catching on." Which for some reason I doubted—Shay knew us too well. Big dork.

"I'll find a way," Lizzy vowed, giggling.

"I'm sure you will," I replied, also giggling. She probably would, knowing her and her maniacal Cupid Complex.

"Hey—look!" She pointed at a large sign that read, "Meet Panic! at the Disco!"

The sign went on to say:

_"Sign up and drop in your card! One lucky person will be picked to hang out with members of Panic! at the Disco and get backstage passes to a concert! So get your teen hearts beating faster, faster and sign up today!"_

Cheesy, yes. Exciting—well, yes.

"C'mon, let's sign up," Lizzy said, grabbing one of the pens off of the table.

I followed suit and filled out two cards—one for myself and one for Shay. (Hey—he would kill for a chance to meet Ryan Ross. I mean, c'mon, who wouldn't?)

The two of us shoved the cards into the locked box and then went on to our original task.

* * *

Jamie sat down on the couch next to me, awkwardly saying, "It's okay, Jude. It'll—it'll be okay."

How could he know that? He had people that actually care about him. If one of them were suddenly dead, he would have others to fall back on. I had no one. No one but him, anyway.

I was in hysterics, crying harder than I ever had. Sadie and I—we had never been best-friend close, but she was my sister and the only family I had. I didn't know what I'd do without her.

Jamie was trying to get the whole story out of me, but I couldn't string together more than a few words. My mind was frozen under ocean of ice. I just needed someone to slap me and snap me out of it, but Jamie would never do that.

He just attempted to calm me down with his words, but I could not be consoled.

* * *

Having lunch at the mall is something that we rarely do. The food court is noisy, trashy, and grease-filled—not exactly a dream lunch. Today, though, we put that aside and ordered some Japanese food.

Satisfied with our chicken and rice, we sat at a semi-clean table in a quiet corner of the food court. Well, quieter than the rest of the place, anyway. "So," Lizzy said, setting down her Pepsi. "What've you been thinking all day?"

I looked at her blankly for a moment and finally said, "…Nothing. It really doesn't matter." She opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. "Do _not _try to shrink me, Lizzy Way. Don't even think about it."

She laughed. "Dude, you know me too well."

I laughed as well. "Maybe."

"So—I hate to keep talking about Shay, but we _have _to get Tyla to happen," Lizzy said, switching the topic. "I mean, seriously."

"Tyla?"

"Ty and Shayla?"

Okay, so now we have Jommy and Tyla. What would Lizzy and that Carter guy be? Lizter? Carzy? "Oh, right."

"But yeah, I just feel bad," Lizzy continued, swirling the ice in her drink around with her straw. "I mean, those guys all still think he's straight."

"Well, I had my doubts, but thanks for clearing that up."

Lizzy clapped a hand to her mouth and stared at Tommy and Kwest, who had appeared out of nowhere, holding McDonald's bags. My eyes widened, and I looked from them to Lizzy and back at them.

Motherfcker, Shay was gonna murder us.

* * *

The day of Sadie's funeral, I wore a black dress. My red hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Jamie held my hand almost the whole time. The only time he let go was when I went up and sang.

I wish that I could tell you that there were no dry eyes in the church, but that would be a lie. In all reality, there _were _dry eyes. Don's.

* * *

"I—I, uh—we were kidding?" I offered feebly, cringing. Oh, man, Shay's gonna hate us.

Tommy shrugged and sat down in the seat beside me. Kwest sat beside Lizzy. "It doesn't matter," Tommy said, "and it was pretty dmn obvious. I think Ty's the only one that hasn't seen it yet."

"You can't tell him," I said sharply. "Shay would be totally devastated if he knew that you two knew, let alone Ty."

"Oh, come on. You've had to have noticed that Ty is _at least _bi." Kwest rolled his eyes. "I mean, the guy probably owns more chick jeans than you do. Combined."

Lizzy and I blinked at each other, open-mouthed. The next thing out of Lizzy's mouth was, "_Girl pants! _I _knew it!"_

"So Shay's…into Ty?" Tommy asked. He seemed to accept this, but still be a bit foreign to the whole guy-on-guy thing.

"Yeah," Lizzy nodded. I kicked her sharply under the table. "WHAT? They already heard earlier!"

I dropped my head into my hands. _Sorry, Shayla, _I mentally said. _It's not my fault, I promise…_

"Well, Ty's constantly talking about Shay," Kwest snickered. "Maybe we can help with—what did you call it?" He looked at Lizzy.

"Tyla?"

"Yeah. Maybe we can help with Tyla."

Lizzy grinned ear-to-ear. "Eek! Yes! We must make the gay boy love real!" She did an excited fast, happy-clap and squealed.

I was hesitant to be in on this, but eventually I agreed. There was no stopping Lizzy now anyway. I might as well go along with it. "Okay, so, what's the plan?"

"That's more like it," Tommy smirked at me, meeting my eyes.

My inner Panic! freak screamed, _Come on, this is screaming photo op!_

* * *

The next few months after the funeral were miserable. I felt sick all the time, and there was a weight on my spirit that I could not shake. It was killing me, and no one could help.

One day, as I sat in my room, mourning in silence, I heard a noise at my window. I tiredly walked to the window, saw Jamie standing below, and opened it. "What, Jamie?"

"Catch." He tossed up a CD case, which I caught easily. This had happened several times before. Jamie was your classic emo boy—mixed CDs were his forte. He always made them for me when I needed comfort or just new music.

He disappeared back to his house and I shut the window. I curled back up on my bed and looked at the collage cover. It read _Pint Sized Songs You Can Fix Your Heart With. _

I opened it and placed it in my Walkman, taking the Metallica CD that I had been listening to out. I settled back against my pillow. I hit play, and the song "I'm Not Okay (I Promise)" by My Chemical Romance flooded my ears.

I flipped the CD case over and read the track listing. (Jamie really did go all out on these things.)

_1. I'm Not Okay (I Promise) – My Chemical Romance_

_2. Helena – My Chemical Romance_

_3. Pros and Cons of Breathing – Fall Out Boy_

_4. Rooftops (Liberation Transmission) – Lostprophets_

_5. Slipped Away – Avril Lavigne_

_6. Hold On – Good Charlotte_

_7. Away From The Sun – 3 Doors Down_

I ended up shouting to each song until my throat literally split. I spent a few days in the hospital and couldn't speak normally for weeks, but I had never felt better.

Give me passionate anger.

Flash.

Give me grief.

Flash.

Give me gratitude.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: Wee, I'm done! I really hope you guys liked this chapter. The next one is from Shay's POV, so that should be interesting. Heh. Also, if y'all don't know the songs on that list up there, you should look them up and listen because they're songs that are amazing and all mean a lot to me. Think you can get up to 90 reviews before I post the next chapter? 


	7. In Which Shay Tells the Story

A/N: Umm, to describe this chapter…Tyla-licious? Ha. Yes. Hee. I hope you guys like. And for the record, Shay thinks in the "Give me… Flash" too because he's obsessed with Invisible Monsters and Panic! at the Disco. And is often Jude's model. Haha. So, you might have cought on to the fact that this chapter is in Shay's POV. Now, I'm sorry to break away from Jommy, but I have three chapters that are from Shay's POV. (Not one right after the other, lol. The next one's in chapter 12, I think.) It just rounds out the story a bit more. :D

Note2: I'm currently listening to "Your Evil Soul" by The Spill Canvas. They are a pretty wicked cool band. And I love "All Hail the Heartbreaker" to death. So check them out.

* * *

_Chapter Seven  
_"_In Which Shay Tells The Story"_

So, here I was on a Thursday afternoon, playing the piano at work as people gathered around, watching.

Give me awe.

Flash.

Give me dazzlement.

Flash.

It had been a few days since Jude and Lizzy had gone to the mall, and I could tell that something was up. I kind of notice the apologetic look you flash my way, Jude, hun. Now if only I knew why.

I finished off "Golden" and stood up. I gave a dramatic bow, unable to hold back a smile as the people gathered around clapped. "Thank you," I said, beaming. "I'll be here all—well, for the next couple years."

I glanced over at the registers, where Jude and Lizzy were Jude was waving me over, and Lizzy was practically bouncing in excitement. God, they were weird sometimes. (I love them for it, of course.) "Okay—have a nice night, everyone," I closed, taking another dorky bow before going to my friends.

"Hey, we need you to get a box," Lizzy said brightly.

Cue a blank look on my part. They were that frantic over a box? "Okay, which one?" No use in arguing anyway, I guess.

"The one in the back of the storage room," Jude said, nodding her head to the door to the storage room. "It's at the top and it's loaded with those rap CDs."

I flashed them a smile and said, "A'ight. Westside, fo'shizzle, yo." I walked like a gangsta all the way back to the storage room, leaving the two of them in giggles. As I opened the door, the bell above the main door sounded.

I flipped the light on and let the door swing shut behind me. The boxes that were stacked in this room contained thousands of CDs—mostly dumb rap and bubblegum pop, sadly, because that is what sells.

I finally found the box that they had told me about and grabbed it. Frowning, I noticed how light it was. Light enough for any able-bodied college student to carry. Whatever, it didn't really matter. I needed a break from the piano anyway.

I grabbed the doorknob and attempted to turn it. It wouldn't open. _Sht._

With a sinking feeling, I realized that I was locked in.

* * *

"Shane!"

I sat in my room, flipping through the latest copy of AP, attempting to ignore my mom's shrill yelling. Man, I knew that I was in for it.

I'd gotten snakebite lip piercings earlier as an eighteenth birthday present to myself. I knew my parents wouldn't be too thrilled, but my boyfriend, Chaz, loved it. He said it was wicked hardcore. (Which wasn't, admittedly, much coming from a guy who _still _listens to Nsync and Backstreet Boys. Gag me.)

At the moment, my lip hurt like—well, like someone had shot holes through both sides of it. Believe me—"ow" is, in fact, an understatement here.

The door burst open, and my mom—a round woman with dark grey black hair—stood in the doorway. I held the magazine to my face, just under my nose, and looked at her through wide, innocent eyes.

"I told you not to get any piercings," she snapped, crossing her thick arms.

I smiled smugly behind my magazine. Like she could stop me now. It wasn't like she could force me to take them out. I'm eighteen now, gawddang it!

"Shane, I don't know what we're going to do with you," she sighed, unfolding her arms. "Next thing I know, you'll be running off with some girl and getting matching tattoos."

Ha, that's funny. Me? Girls? Long exposure to needles? Honestly, that's just about the funniest thing I've heard all day. Gotta give my mom props for knowing so much about me, though. Insert sarcasm.

I just blinked at her.

"Well—happy eighteenth birthday, dear," mom said, her anger evaporating for a few moments. "You're a man now. So…is eighteen too old for birthday tradition?"

I lowered the magazine and gave her a small smile. "Nah, ma, eighteen's not too old. Bring on the Papa John's."

* * *

I really could not believe this. I was stuck in a room the size of a large closet, and no one was answering my calls for help. _Thank you, best friends! _I mentally shot to Jude and Lizzy in exasperation.

Finally giving up on hopes for rescues, I sat down on a stack of boxes. (I would've sat on the floor but a-ew, and b-my pants are way too tight for that to work.) I stared at the door, mentally willing it to open.

Amazingly, it did—and Ty walked into the room, letting the door shut behind him.

Un. Be. Lievable.

He looked from my stricken face to the door with his gorgeous honey-brown eyes and cringed slightly. "Eh…I shouldn't have closed that, huh?"

I just shook my head, mumbling curses in my mind. Of course, the one person that I get locked in a room wi—

Oh.

My.

God.

Those motherfcking little…

They _planned _this. Lizzy and Jude—that explained everything. Dmn, I can't believe I didn't catch on earlier.

"No one's gonna let us out, are they?" Ty asked, looking at the door and scratching the back of his head.

"Nope."

He didn't seem all that surprised, for some reason. It was almost like he'd expected something like this to happen. I guess he was a bit more attentive than me.

He sat down on another stack of boxes, facing me. "Shay…I think I know what this is about."

I swallowed hard, and I was certain that all of the color in my face had drained. There are no words to describe the betrayal that I felt at that moment.

I just can't believe they told him. They _promised. _Jude _promised _me that she wouldn't tell him—tell _anyone. _How could she do this to me?

* * *

"Birthday tradition" consisted of me, mom, and my dad ordering Papa John's and watching a movie of the birthday person's choice. I picked RENT, which I had just recently seen, thanks to Chaz.

Halfway through the movie, dad made a noise between a grunt and a snort, causing me and mom to look at him. "Why would you pick a movie about flaming homosexuals?" he demanded.

My cheeks flushed scarlet, thankfully hidden by the darkness of the room. "I—I like the soundtrack," I told him. "And it's got a great plot—"

"It's about homos getting AIDS," dad interrupted. "Now, I'll tell you, Shane—I'm glad you're a _normal _kid, and not a freak like one of those fgs. You'd be out on your (arse) if I ever found out that you were involved in something as disgusting as that."

I bit down hard on my already sore lip and stared at the television for a moment, fighting the urge to tell him right then and see if he was bluffing.

When I was satisfied that my secret wouldn't fly out as soon as I opened my mouth, I quietly said, "I—I've got a headache. Um, I'm gonna go to bed early."

I walked at a normal pace until I got down the steps, and then I ran to my room, my mind on the first story window it held. I needed to get out of here.

* * *

"What, exactly?" I asked him, preparing myself for the bad news—rejection, betrayal, hurt—my life story, really, back for round two. I don't know how I'm going to face Jude and Lizzy again.

I mean, really, this could be expected from Lizzy. She was like that—kind of loose-lipped. But _Jude? _Nothing ever came out of her mouth unless she wanted it to. It would've been intentional, which added a sting to the blow.

Ty took a deep breath, a pink tinge coming to his flawless, pale skin. He was staring down at his large hands, seemingly readying his words. Words of rejection, I'm sure.

"Shay…um, the only way I can think of to say this is…" He stopped, chewing on his lip. God, he was killing me. I wish he would just get it over with so that I could go home and die.

Give me rejection.

Flash.

Give me misery.

Flash.

Give me heartbreak.

Flash.

Ty swallowed hard, his rather large Adam's apple visibly moving up and back down. "Please don't hate me for this," he said softly, finally looking up at me.

I refused to let him see how much his words hurt.

* * *

Sneaking out of my house is relatively easy, as my room is on the first floor and I was small enough to easily blend in with the darkness.

I walked down the street, enjoying the nearly calming effect of the sounds of my Converse thudding across the pavement of the road. It was almost enough to block out my father's words.

Would he really kick me out if he knew? Was it really that bad that he would disown me?

Sometimes, I hated myself for being who I was, for loving who I did. Now—now was one of those times that I would kill to be some pig-headed, perverted, straight-as-a-ruler, homophobic jock. Maybe then I wouldn't have to pretend.

I lost track of time as I walked under the starlit sky. It was just me, my troubled thoughts, and the pavement.

Chaz was twenty. He lived in an apartment building down the street from my neighborhood. He was the one that helped me figure things out in the beginning—what all was happening, what I was supposed to do. We'd been together since I was sixteen, and he was one of the two people that knew that I was gay—him and his younger sister, who was my age and one of my best friends.

I pulled the spare key to his apartment from my pocket after I had scaled the quarter-fence and walked up to his door. He'd given it to me when he started renting the place, a year ago. He said I was one of the only people he really trusted and that I could come over any time.

He would be able to calm me down, I knew.

I opened the door and stepped inside. "Chaz?" I called. I got no response. I could hear music pumping through the walls, and figured he was probably in his room. A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth—maybe I could catch him lip-synching into his hairbrush and dancing around like a boybander with a white bandana wrapped around his head…again.

I pushed open the door, prepared to laugh at his lame dance moves. I wasn't prepared for what I saw.

There was Chaz—_my _Chaz—making out with some guy that looked like he'd been beamed down from Brokeback Mountain, cowboy hat and all.

My mind stopped. My mouth opened and hurt wrote a novel across my face. One of my hands was still on the door, and the other hung useless at my side. Emotion kicked in as I realized what was going on.

The first was passing—shock. I'd been played without even realizing it. I couldn't believe that Chaz would hurt me like this.

The second washed in, eager to upstage the first. This one was hurt. How _could _he? Didn't he realize how much I cared about him? Didn't he realize how much I trusted him, how much I was risking?

Anger was soon to follow, shadowing the others like a giant before David. How _dare _he? How dare he not have the decency to just break up with me if he didn't want just me? Anger—anger was the emotion to connect with my mouth. "Save a horse, ride a cowboy, right, Chaz?" I said hoarsely, grabbing their attention for the first time.

Chaz looked horrified. Cowboy looked confused. "Who's he, Chazzy?"

I never heard Chaz's answer, because I was out the door and running before he even had time to move.

My eyes stung. Somehow, I convinced myself that it was just because of the wind hitting my eyes.

* * *

"I love you, Shay."

There—there it was, the sentence that would—"Wait, _what?!" _I was so startled that I forgot to use my not-like-Marco-Del Rossi voice, and the Marco burst through.

Ty looked taken aback by my reaction—just as surprised as I was about what he had said. "Um—um, like I said, uh, please don't hate me, I can get over it—"

"So—so Jude and Lizzy _didn't _tell you?" I asked, completely flabbergasted.

"Didn't tell me what?" God, he's hot when he's confused.

I couldn't help but laugh. This whole time, I'd been freaking out over absolutely nothing. "That I—that I love you, too, Ty."

Now I'm not one to kiss and tell, so I'll leave it at that…one small detail, though: Ty _owns _Chaz in that department. (And, of course, every other way.)

* * *

The first words out of my mouth to Jude and Lizzy, post-departure of Ty, Kwest, and Tommy, were, "Guess who's got a boyfriend?"

They both squealed and hugged me out once, turning the three of us into a giggling mess. How could I have thought they'd betray me?

Give me happiness.

Flash.

Give me excitement.

Give me love.

Flash.

**

* * *

**A/N: Again - Jommy-friends, please don't shoot me. Next chapter should make up for the utter lack of any IS at all in this chapter…oops? But yeah, like I said, I needed to put this in for the rest of the story to make sense. :) And trust me...ha. You will like next chapter. Hee. Now, see that shiny, beautiful little blue/purple button? Isn't it lovely? Don't you just want to...poke it? Poke it with your mouse and type something? Heh. I'd really love it if you guys would tell me what you did and didn't like about the chapter. So, review, please? 


	8. In Which a Mysterious Email is Recieved

A/N: All right! New chapter! Hopefully all of the sickening Jommy-ness in this chapter makes up for the over all lack of it throughout this fic so far. There will be much more coming up. And I just wanted to say that y'all are amazing and thank you for sticking with me this far. :)

Note2: I'm listening to "Black Dresses" by The Spill Canvas. They are pretty awesome. I think I might have already mentioned them. But uh, I don't remember so there you go.

* * *

_Chapter Eight  
_"_In Which A Mysterious E-Mail Is Received"_

Shay was adorably, sickeningly happy. It was kind of like when people send you to those web sites filled with "cute" pictures of puppies and kittens. The first several pictures are adorable, but after that you almost wanted to gag.

Of course, puppies don't make out with each other and provide kittens with a free show of it. That keeps the gag factor way away. That and the fact that I love Shay to death and he's happier than I've ever seen him.

It's been two weeks since the new age of Tyla began. They were still going strong, which kept all of us insanely giddy for some reason. In this two weeks, I'd learned a bit more about Ty. He was twenty-two, and was a junior, majoring in music production. He'd met Tommy and Kwest when he'd needed a place to stay because—surprise—his roommate decided to be a skank and have someone hack the system and switch him out. (Someone really needs to do something about that. It kind of happens way too much, kthnxbai.)

Anyway, now it is mid-December, and we're heading toward the last few days of the semester, and I'm working on editing my pictures again. Four of them were due on Monday—the last day before break—as a checkpoint, to make sure we're actually working on this. Even though it was only Friday, I wanted to get them out of the way so that I could have my weekend free.

I had chosen my four favorite shots to send to Ms. Hudgens. The first was the picture with Tommy leaning against the building. The second and third were from the day at 620—one of Tommy making a face at Wally and the other of him putting Kyle in a (playful) headlock. The last featured Ty and Kwest with him at the movies. (Yes—I had tagged along on one of the Tyla dates. I wanted to see Tommy.)

I attached the pictures to an e-mail and sent them to Ms. Hudgens. (She didn't want actual prints of the pictures yet. That would come later.) I felt satisfied as I hit send. I clicked back into my inbox.

To my surprise, I found that there was one unread e-mail—from (who else?) Tommy. The subject had been left blank. My heart speeding up a bit, I opened the e-mail.

_"Midnight, tonight, by the fountain."_

* * *

I was only nine years old when my parents wrecked my image of a perfect family. I wasn't old enough to fully understand what love really was, and yet there it was, being ripped apart before my eyes.

Give me screaming rage.

Flash.

Give me sinful.

Flash.

Give me adultery.

Flash.

Back then I didn't understand why people in our neighborhood always seemed to stare and whisper when mom would drive past them. All I knew was that mommy was sad and daddy was gone.

* * *

"You're going."

"How do I know what he's going to do?" I asked Shay, who was flitting around the room like a crazy person, trying to find his hair straightener. (Do not give me that look. I didn't hide it. This time.)

"Psh, girl, Tommy's a good guy," Shay informed me, looking under his bed. "And he knows that he would have to go through me if he pulled anything."

Right. That made me feel safe. Shay was about as threatening as a sock. And I don't mean a nasty gym sock, either—I mean a nice, warm, fresh-from-the-drier white sock. Boo.

I wanted to go, really—to meet Tommy at midnight, I mean, not to Non-Threatening-Sock Land. I just wasn't sure if it was such a great idea. I mean, I trust Tommy enough, but let's face it—I really don't know much about him.

When I voiced this, Shay stopped his hunt, stood in front of me, grabbed my shoulders, and looked me in the eyes. "Jude. Repeat after me. My name is Jude Harrison."

"My name is Jude Harrison," I parroted, rolling my eyes.

"I am going to go and meet Tommy at midnight."

_Squawk! Dead men tell no tales! _More parroting.

"And I am going to have fun."

I repeated again and then added, "Do I get a cracker now?"

It didn't take him half a second to catch on to my sarcasm. "Not unless you changed your name to Polly," he grinned cheekily. "Now, seriously—where is my straightener?"

* * *

"That's _it, _Stuart!" mom screamed, throwing dad's clothes out of their room. "Get out! Get out of this house!"

"Vic, let me explain!" dad pleaded. Sadie and I sat there in the doorway of Sadie's room, watching with wide eyes. Mom had never yelled at dad before. Our parents had never _fought _before.

"_Explain what?" _mom shrieked. "How you toured our travel guide?"

"It wasn't like that!"

Sadie, who—back then—had been a very protective sister, pulled me out of the hall and into her room. "It's gonna be okay, Jude," she promised me with her twelve-year-old wisdom.

I didn't believe her. For me, the world was ending, and I didn't even know why.

* * *

At eleven-thirty that night, I twirled around in a circle for Shay and Lizzy, waiting for their approval. I was wearing a slim-fit black t-shirt with blue and white Panic! at the Disco design. It was tight, but comfortable. A pair of skinny blue jeans encased my thin legs. I was wearing Shay's studded emo belt. Black-and-white striped knee socks were on under my ratty blue-and-black Converse high-tops.

Shay and Lizzy had all but attacked my hair with brushes and products, and now it fell down in light waves, perfectly framing my face. I wore a thin line of black eyeliner and a small dap of clear lip gloss.

Shay tackle-hugged me. "You look awesome. Now go knock him dead, girl!"

I smiled and hugged him, and then grabbed my snug hoodie and my keys. "Wish me luck," I said, opening the door.

"With that outfit? You don't _need _luck," Lizzy informed me with a grin. "But good luck anyway."

Somewhere in the middle of this, Shay had shouted, "LUCK!!"

I got into my car and left our small home, heading toward campus.

Give me nervous.

Flash.

Give me hopeful.

Flash.

Give me an excitement that I can't place.

Flash.

I popped in my Plain White T's CD and blasted "You and Me". _"You and me, we like the same kind of music. That's why we make a good you and me. We've got style and baby, we know how to use it. That's why we make a good you and me…"_

I put the song on repeat and sang it all the way to the campus. Once I was in the parking lot, I pulled the keys out of the ignition and sat there for a moment, readying myself.

I took a deep breath and got out of the car. The fountain was in sight, and a shadow was outlined against it.

* * *

I sat at my chair at breakfast, waiting for mom to come out of the kitchen with her famous J- and S-shaped pancakes. I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

I sat there until Sadie came in, saying that mommy was still asleep. Sadie made me cereal.

I caught a ride to school with Jamie and his nana because even then, my mom hadn't woken up.

* * *

"Miss Harrison," Tommy said smoothly as I walked up to him. "Looking beautiful as usual," he added after looking me over.

I gave him a smile that was completely genuine. _Beautiful, _I repeated in my mind, which gave my smile a few extra watts. "So, what's the big urgency, Mr. Quincy?" I asked, just as smooth—at least, I hope.

"Right this way," he said, extending an arm toward the area of grass behind the fountain. Whatever was there was blocked by said water source. "But it's a surprise."

He took a step behind me and lightly laid his hands over my eyes. (Go Lizzy—smudge free eyeliner.) "Trust me?" he asked into my ear, his breath hot on the side of my face.

"Yes," I breathed.

He led me, keeping his hands over my eyes, around the fountain. "All right," he said, sending thrills down my spine. "Surprise." He lifted his hands, revealing a blanket that was lying on the grass. White candles were scattered around it, glowing softly and flickering shadows.

It was extremely romantic. I was speechless. Tommy shifted around so that he could see my expression. "Does that mean you like it?" he smirked.

I nodded, a smile again stretching across my face. He lied down on the blanket and I followed suit, close enough that we were touching.

The night sky was filled with stars—more stars than I had ever seen. It was breathtaking and beautiful. "Look," Tommy said softly, pointing to a group of stars. "See that? It's Orion. You can see the belt."

My dad had taken Sadie and I outside one night and shown us Orion. It was the only constellation I'd ever been able to find. "You know constellations, Quincy?" I asked, turning my head.

He turned his as well, leaving a gap of an inch or two between our faces. "Yeah," he told me, smiling pensively. "My mom showed them to me when I was a kid."

My heart was racing from the close proximity. I don't know why he could do this to me. It was crazy. "That's sweet," I told him. "I love the stars. They're so…pretty."

"I know two stars that are _beautiful," _Tommy whispered. "It's just too bad you can't see them."

"Why not?"

"They're in your eyes."

Then, the gap was gone, and his lips were on mine.

* * *

My mom was never the same. She slept too much and cared too little. She went out to bars on weekends, and sometimes didn't come home for days.

I overheard Sadie on the phone with one of her friends one day. "_I don't know, Lacey. She's just…gone. I—I don't believe in love anymore. Not if it ended like this."_

I decided that since Sadie said that and I had come to trust Sadie, I would agree with her. I didn't believe in love after that day.

* * *

When I got home that night, at nearly five in the morning, Shay and Lizzy were up waiting, gulping down Red Bulls like they were the blood of life. They bombarded me with questions the second I closed the door.

"What happened?"

"What'd he wear?"

"What'd he say?"

"What did he _do?!"_

I burst into a squealing relay or the night's events, prompting several "OH MY GAWD" and "Aww"s. This was it—things couldn't get much better than this.

Give me joyous.

Flash.

Give me fangirl.

Flash.

Give me love (because now I think I believe).

Flash.

* * *

A/N: Huzzah. Finished. Now...see the little review button? Use it, please. ;) I would love you lots. Ha, ha. 


	9. In Which Christmas Madness Ensues

A/N: Mmkay, first of all—thanks to you guys for getting me to almost 130 reviews by the ninth chapter! Holy cow! That is like, mind-blowing. Honestly. Thank you so, so much for reading and commenting. Second—yes, I brought Carter back. He won't be a main character, though, and this will be his last scene. He just kind of fit in with the plot here. And third, before anyone goes to hit that "report" button for having RL-people in here...they never actually say anything. So no use reporting me. ;) LOL, sorry, I'm kind of paranoid about that because I've had stories deleted before and I would die a little inside if this fic, my baby, got deleted. :(

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone but Shay, Lizzy, and Ty. I own my plot. I own my words. The rest belongs to the creators of Instant Star. Except for the lyrics in here, which are credited within the chapter.

Note2: I'm currently listening to "Irvine" by Kelly Clarkson. It's kind of strange. I like it though, I guess. It's just that it's almost ten friggin' minutes long and goes on and on and on...her new album's really great, though, contrary to common belief. Check it out. :D

* * *

_Chapter Nine  
_"_In Which Christmas Madness Ensues"_

Christmas is in three days, and I have three people to shop for now. Shay, Lizzy, and my boyfriend (man, I'll never get sick of saying that—_my _boyfriend), Tommy.

Today I am at the mall. Shay and Lizzy are here, too—but we're not shopping together yet. We're buying stuff for each other first, and then meeting up to shop for the boyfriends.

I was in Journey's now, looking for Lizzy's present. Shoes were too expensive—other than Crocs, and those were hideous—and so they were out of the question…but I looked at them anyway. I searched around the store, sighing occasionally over the price tags.

"Uh, can I help you?" A slightly familiar voice came from behind me.

I turned around and saw Carter—that guy Lizzy had flirted with here ages ago. (Uh, she'd kind of dumped him two weeks ago. Apparently, he was too clingy or whatever.) "Uh, hi. Just looking for a present that I can afford."

He glanced at the brightly-colored shoes in my hands. "For Lizzy?" he questioned, tilting his head slightly.

"Yeah," I laughed slightly. "For Lizzy."

He paused for a moment, fiddling with his nametag. "Eh, it's Christmas," he shrugged. He lowered his voice and said, "I'll give you a discount. Just don't tell my manager."

I flashed him a grateful smile. "Thanks!"

"Any time."

* * *

My mom met Don amidst the chaos of the divorce from my dad. He was her divorce lawyer. 

Give me neighborhood scandal.

Flash.

Give me desperate.

Flash.

I never liked him. He was big, tall, and vaguely creepy looking. Not exactly the ideal step-father. The feeling was mutual—he hated Sadie and I.

He won my desperate mother over somehow.

One night I was sitting on the staircase with Sadie, waiting for mom to come home from her date. It was nearly two before she finally did. And I don't mean two in the morning. I mean two P.M. the next day, with a wedding ring on her finger, closely followed by Don and his luggage.

Sadie's entire expression "What's going on?" she growled, looking scary for a young teenager.

"We got married!" mom exclaimed, smiling happily.

Sadie glared, and then stood up and ran to her room. I looked to my mother.

Give me confusion, baby.

Flash.

Give me disappointment.

Flash.

I stood up and followed my sister, leaving my mom and her husband behind. When I walked into Sadie's room, she was flopped across her bed, crying into her pillow. "Sadie? What's going on?"

"Didn't you see, Jude?" Sadie sobbed, the sound muffled by the cloth. "Mom married Don. She married him without us there and now he's moving in. We're stuck living with him!"

This finally sunk into my mind, and I burst into tears. My mom and dad would never get back together if she was married to Don.

* * *

I wasn't quite sure what to buy for Shay. That is definitely _not _a good thing, I must say. I was completely lost as to where I could begin. 

Meh. I'll try the Morgan's here.

Looking through the CDs, I thought of a few things.

One, Christmas is _three days _from now, and I don't know what to get for my best friend.

Two, I have a date with Tommy tonight and I can't wait.

Three, Sadie loved Christmas.

Give me pensive.

Flash.

Give me regret.

Flash.

I pushed that last thought from my mind and picked up a CD. It was labeled _Vena Sera. _The band's name was Chevelle. I'd never heard of them.

I walked over to one of the listening stations and slipped on the headphones. I scanned the barcode of the CD and hit play. A clip from a song called "Well Enough Alone" played.

Oh yes. Shay will like. And then I can get him a pair of faded jeans like he's been obsessing over lately. (Thank God for Steve & Barry's and their six-dollar jeans.)

Two down, one to go. Now I just have to meet up with Shay and Lizzy and buy one for Tommy.

* * *

"I hate him," Sadie said when I was thirteen. "I hate him and I want him gone." 

Don was passed out on the couch, with the muted TV displaying a football game. Sadie and I were again sitting on the steps, with her talking in a venom-filled whisper and me listening, nodding in the appropriate places.

"All he does is drink," she glared. "Drink and sleep. I don't know why mom married him. I _hate _him!"

I didn't like him too much either. I didn't like the way he looked at me or Sadie. Like he wanted us gone from existence or something. It scared me. He hated us. I don't know why.

I just nodded. Sadie didn't need my opinion to continue with her rant.

I don't know where mom is. All I know is that we're stuck with Don the Drunk while she's out being alive.

* * *

I stood near the entrance of the food court, keeping an eye out for Shay and Lizzy. This is where we would be meeting up to shop for Ty and Tommy. (Lizzy was currently single, post-Carter.) 

I spotted Shay coming my way, carrying a bag in each hand. He put down the bags when he got in front of me. He flung his skinny arms around me with a huge grin on his face. "I missed you!" he teased, pulling back. "It's been _forever!"_

"It's been like an hour, Shayla," I laughed. "You act like you died and came back!"

Shay grinned. "Maybe I did!"

"Did what?" Lizzy asked, walking up, also carrying bags.

"AHHH, LIZZY!!" Shay tackle-hugged her as well.

Give me hyper.

Flash.

Give me fun.

Flash.

All three of us were laughing and giggling as we walked around the mall. This earned us several dirty looks, but none of us really cared.

* * *

We found the perfect gifts. 

I really couldn't wait to see what Tommy would think when he saw it. …But I'm not telling what just yet. Surprises are key, really.

Now Shay, Lizzy and I were strolling around the mall aimlessly, chattering and laughing. These were the days that made my life easy. Nothing to do but hang out with my best friends.

"Hey—look, a photo booth!" Lizzy pointed a painted (electric blue) fingernail toward a little box that read "FOTO PHUN". (Very witty—insert sarcasm.) "Let's go do pictures!"

There was no disagreement on this front. The three of us giddily crammed into the small space. Shay was in the middle. (That's how things always were—Shay's in the middle and us girls are on the sides. He's like, our glue.)

"Okay, okay, which border?" Lizzy gasped through laughs. "Princess?" Shay made a face at her. "Well, fine, you pick one!" Still laughing. I'm starting to suspect crack fumes in the air conditioning units.

Give me carefree.

Flash.

Give me crazy.

Flash.

Give me ADD.

Flash.

"HOT STUFF!!" Shay burst, pointing frantically a the frame in question. It had flames at the top and read "Hot Stuff" in bold, charred looking letters.

Lizzy and I both agreed on that. Shay hit the select button.

We have been in photo booths together several times, actually. Enough that we have a system. First of the four shots is a normal, heads touching, best friend pose. The second, I would say "Give me (fill in the blank)!" and we would all do that. Then Shay would fill in the blank, and then Lizzy would.

"Give me gangsta!" I exclaimed as the timer ticked down from five. I threw up a west-side. Lizzy threw up a sideways peace sign. Shay made the LA sign.

Flash.

We all put down our hands and waited for the timer to start. As soon as it did, Shay said, "Give me myspace whre!"

We all made various types of pouting, "secks meh now plz" faces.

Flash.

Wait. Timer.

"Give me dominatrix!" Lizzy shouted.

That picture ended up being Lizzy making a whipping motion, me laughing so hard that I wasn't breathing, and Shay giving Lizzy the biggest "What the mess?!" look I have ever seen.

Give me carefree.

Flash.

Give me innocence.

Flash.

Give me amusement.

Flash.

* * *

The doorbell rang at seven-thirty. I quickly hopped up from my place on the couch and opened the door for Tommy. 

"Hey, girl," he said, smiling warmly. I gave him a quick kiss and pulled him into the house. I still needed to find my shoes.

"Sup, man?" Shay asked, giving Tommy a peace sign and a smile.

"Not much, dude. You?"

Shay shrugged. "Nothin'."

Cue sighs from Lizzy and I. Such conversationalist, they were.

"Liz, shoes?"

"Use mine," she said, nodding in the direction of her room. "The black and pink Vans—in my closet, second row, closest to the wall."

"Thanks!"

I hurried off to her room. I slipped the shoes on and then ducked into me and Shay's room. I snatched a necklace off of my bed and clasped it around my neck.

This wasn't a normal necklace. There was a tiny digital camera disguised as a charm. All you had to do was press the side of the charm to get a picture. I'd found it in some spy shop I'd seen back home. (Yes, there was a little gadget store. That's exactly how SME earned their titles as the biggest pranksters. Connectionssss.)

Give me sneaky.

Flash.

Give me stalkarazzi.

Flash.

Give me that freaking A+, cuz I ain't leaving without it.

Flash.

Okay, maybe this was the epitome of desperation, but I couldn't just randomly stalk him now that we were going out. I had to sneak around a bit. Just put on my Sydney Bristow face and resort to cheap spy gadgets.

I walked back out into the living room and smiled at Tommy. "All right, I'm ready," I declared, looking to him.

"Wow, demanding," Tommy smirked. "Dominatrix girl."

Shay met my eyes, and then Lizzy's. The three of us burst into hysterical laughter. _Dominatrix. _Oh, God.

"…What?" Tommy asked, looking confused.

"N-nothing," I gasped, regaining some semblance of composure. "C'mon, let's go…" Snicker.

I waved good-bye to Shay and Lizzy, who were still giggling over Tommy's statement. As we were walking out the door, Ty was walking up. "He's inside," I told him.

"Thanks," Ty said, smiling. "Have fun…"

"GAH! TYYYY!" is what we heard, followed by a slight thud, as we got into Tommy's car. (A Viper. Hiss.)

Shay really needs to cool it with the tackle hugs. (Yes, _hugs_—mind out of the gutter, slash freaks.)

"So, where are we going?" I asked Tommy, looking over at him with a hand on my charm-camera.

"A concert," Tommy said, smiling slyly.

My jaw dropped. "What? Seriously? What kind of concert?!"

"Well, SME got asked to open for this band for the show tonight because their opening act got stuck in the states…"

Oh. Spiederman's Mind Explosion. Now I have to deal with Spiederman. Dmmit.

"…I'm pretty sure that Shay said you're a fan of this headlining band, though," Tommy continued.

"Who?" Now I really wanted to know, gosh dmmit!

He hit play on his car's CD player. "_Whatcha got now, gotta, gotta give it up! Whatcha got now, gotta, gotta give it up!"_

"YOU'RE TAKING ME TO A CUTE IS WHAT WE AIM FOR CONCERT?!" I screamed. (I hadn't meant to scream it—excitement just won over my brain for a moment.) "Oh! My! God! You win! Like, at LIFE!"

Tommy gave me a smirk. "I've been told that before, actually."

I shoved him lightly, not enough for, y'know, him to move enough to crash us. (That would kind of suck.) "By yourself."

He gave me an indignant look. "No!" He paused. "Not every time."

I laughed. "Keep your eyes on the road, Quincy."

* * *

There was one night the year after Sadie died that mom was off God-knows-where, leaving me at home, alone, with Don, who was, of course, drunk. 

I was sitting in my room, listening to my CD that Jamie had given me, when I heard Don's heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. He only ever came upstairs when mom was home. Otherwise, he just slept on the couch.

It could only mean that he was coming up to my room.

Give me fear.

Flash.

I quickly stood up and locked my door. I retreated to the other side of my room and waited.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

"Jude," Don slurred. "Open the door, Jude."

I stared at the door. My heart was racing, and adrenaline was pumping through my body at triple speed.

"Open the door," Don commanded, anger now entering his very intoxicated voice. There was a loud bang from the door. I'm pretty sure he'd kicked it.

I snatched the phone from my nightstand and shakily dialed in the familiar number.

"_'Sup?"_

"K-Kyle? Can you c-come get me?" Don's banging and shouting could surely be heard over the phone.

_"Yeah—what's going on?" _He sounded concerned, like I knew he would be. Kyle was the oldest of the SME boys, and was like my big brother—and he could drive. Which was the main reason I called. No one else could.

"I'll explain l-later."

_"A'ight." _I heard a car door slam over his end of the phone. _"Where are you?"_

"At h-home."

Kyle was quiet for a moment. _"Jude?"_

"Y-yeah?"

_"Get out of there, okay? I'll pick you up in front of Jamie's." _

"Jude! Open the door!" Don roared.

"O-okay. I'll be there."

* * *

Holy crap. 

I am in the front row—NOSEBLEED SEATS!—of a Cute is What We Aim For convert. Oh. My. Gawd.

Right now, SME is on stage, performing their last of five songs—"What You Need". Spiederman is in the middle of the stage with his mic and guitar. Wally is right in front of me with his bass.

Tommy is right beside me, holding my hand in his as we both shout along with the lyrics. His hand is warm. It feels nice.

Give me fitting.

Flash.

Give me real.

Flash.

"Thank you, everyone, and good night," Spiederman said, throwing up rock-on signs with both hands.

The crowd cheered enthusiastically. A girl a ways behind us screamed, "I LOVE YOU, SPIEDEMAN!" I rolled my eyes. I doubt she'd ever talked to the bstard—let alone been within ten feet of him before tonight. Brat.

I cheered for Wally and Kyle, who waved to us. Then, they were gone, off stage, and the lights came on for the set change.

I threw my arms around Tommy's neck and hugged him tightly. He wrapped one arm around my waist and the other around my back. "You are amazing," I said into his shoulder. "You are freaking amazing."

I knew that he was smirking as he said, "Yeah, I know." He squeezed me a bit and the finish, "So are you."

I pulled back and looked him in the eyes. "You're pretty thoughtful for someone that tries to be a thug." I played with the charm on my necklace, discretely aiming the lens toward his face.

"You're pretty talkative for someone that hides behind a camera," Tommy said, one corner of his mouth lifting.

I pressed the charm. Tommy's expression—that adoring smirk—was captured forever in my necklace.

* * *

I sat in the shadows created by Jamie's garage. Even from here, I could hear Don banging on my door, still shouting. I was crying out of pure fear. 

My room was on the second floor. I had rolled up my window and lowered myself as far as I could and had then let go. Someone was looking out for me today, that was for sure—I had landed on my side instead of my legs, saving my legs from breaking.

With no time to pay attention to the lack of air in my lungs, I had jumped up and sprinted to the shadows in front of Jamie's house.

Headlights swung in from around the corner, and Kyle's battered old car came into view. He rolled down his window and waved me forward, whisper-yelling, "C'mon, Jude!"

I shakily stood up and made a dash for his car. The front door of my house opened, and yellow light burst forward around Don's frame. I froze in fear, one hand on the door handle.

Don took a step forward and Kyle shouted, "_Jude! Get in!"_

That was all it took to snap me out of it. I yanked open the car door, nearly pulling my arm out of socket in the process, and jumped into the car.

Kyle was speeding off before the door had shut. He knew—like I had know to lock my door—that something terrible would happen if we didn't get out of there.

Give me terror.

Flash.

* * *

"I can't believe I just met Jack Marin," I said, stupefied, as said bassist walked away from us. "Oh, my God." 

Not to mention that my little stalker camera had yet again come in handy. I now had several pictures of him in my necklace. Score. (And he's such a sweet guy. Too bad I'm spoken for, wink, wink.)

"I can't believe the only thing you managed to say was 'UM. I—I like your scarf!'" Tommy snickered, ruffling my bangs. "_Very _smooth, Harrison."

"I was complimenting him!" I defended, crossing my arms and pouting playfully.

"Jude—he wasn't _wearing _a scarf!" Tommy laughed.

"He didn't seem to notice that!" I argued back, also laughing. It was a bit funny, even if I was mortified.

This was the most fun I'd ever had on a date. Though that might be because of who I was with.

* * *

When we got back to the house, it was around one in the morning. Ty's car was still in our driveway. Tommy walked me to the door, and I invited him in. 

Ty and Shay were lying on the couch, both asleep. The first thing that came to mind was little puppies lying together. It was pretty adorable, to tell the truth. I lifted up a hand to press the charm.

It wasn't visible, but my mind supplied the _flash._

There. Another picture, another memory—saved for good. I can't wait to show Shay this one—it was _so _the new desktop background for my laptop. Thank God for Tyla, eh?

"Watch this," Tommy breathed into my ear. "Ty's always got something like a hangover when waken up."

"Tommy," I hissed as he walked over to the couch. "Don't you—"

"HEY! TY!"

Ty let out a groan and buried his head in Shay's shoulder. He squeezed his closed eyes tighter, and held Shay just a bit tighter as well.

Cue another "aw" on my part.

Shay hadn't moved. (That was another thing about him—he could sleep through like, a hurricane. Somehow, he always managed to wake up on time, though.) He was still lost in the peaceful realm of dreams. He had smiled a little at Ty's movements, however.

Ty mumbled something that vaguely resembled, "Five more hours, T…"

"C'mon, Romeo, we gotta get back and make sure Kwest hasn't burned the dorm," Tommy said, lightly shoving Ty's shoulder. "Again."

Ty sighed and groggily opened his eyes, though they stayed half-lidded. _Sleepy puppy. _Giggle.

He gently untangled himself from Shay and got off of the couch. Shay still didn't wake up. Ty yawned and turned back to look at Shay. The soft smile that he gave my friend made my heart swell for them.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Tommy told me after gently kissing me. "Get some sleep, scarf girl."

I would let that one slide. This time.

Give me happy.

Flash.

Give me caring.

Flash.

Give me really, really effing tired.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: So, there's the end of what I'm pretty sure is the longest chapter this far. Heh. So, just for the record, this chapter was written like, two days before Jack quit CIWWAF, so do not give me crap about that, please, lol. And yes...I did have to work him in. Jack Marin is crazy awesome, and if you don't know who he is, then...well, you're missing out. :P Anyway, hope y'all liked this, and I know that both Jommy and Tyla fans will like next chapter. ;) Now...all that's left to do is hit that sparkly little purple review button. I'd love you guys even more if you'd let me know what you liked or _didn't _like about the chapter...anything more than a 'pms', lol. But if not, that's cool too. Just review. XD Till next time...byez! 


	10. In Which the Gift Keeps Giving

A/N: Hey, guys! Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews! I'm pretty sure I managed to review reply all of you that have accounts, but I wanted to take a second and thank all of the anonymous reviewers. :) Especially to Tommysgrl4evr because that was a crazy long-awesome review that she left and I would feel bad going without showing that I'm thankful for that. So THANK YOUUUU!

Disclaimer: I own Shay, Ty, and Lizzy. And my plot. And my words. Song will be credited at the end of the chapter so as to not spoil things. ;)

Note2: I'm listening to "Change" by The Turning. CHECK THEM OUT. They're an awesome band, and the guys in there are the most awesome, hilarious, great guys ever. (They were at my church camp, and split up into our teams...got to hang out with them all week. They were the coolest guys ever. Especially Jeremy. Go Green Team! Woot!)

* * *

_Chapter Ten  
_"_In Which the Gift Keeps Giving"_

Oh, Christmas, how I love you so.

Well, right now it is quite early in the morning on Christmas day. I'm lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and smiling. Christmas was my favorite holiday ever. It always seemed to bring people together in the strangest ways.

Tommy, Kwest, and Ty had come over last night just in time for dinner—home-cooked! …Well, fine, home-cooked in a factory, but still, I put it in the microwave! That counts for something, right? They had just crashed over here, with Tommy on the couch, Kwest in the recliner, and Ty in the bunk above Shay's. The six of us were definitely off to a good start for Christmas.

Now I just couldn't wait for them all to wake up.

Give me anxiety.

Flash.

* * *

My eighteenth Christmas was cold. That's a big part of what I remember. I had no family to go home to, as I'd been kicked out. I barely had food, even with working nearly fifty hours per week to try and support myself.

It was mostly cold, though. Snow was falling outside, which meant rain was falling into my one-room apartment. Through tiny holes in the ceiling, water drizzled down, just barely missing my pre-calc notes. (That would have been a tragedy—I had been studying all break for the exams coming up. If I failed, I was screwed. Majorly.)

Give me poor.

Flash.

Give me desperate.

Flash.

Give me lonely.

Flash.

The heater was dead again. My oh-so-nice landlord, Liam, had told me in his stuffy accent that this is the reason _blankets _were invented, Miss Harrison. All that did was remind me just how much I hated him. What a jerk. I mean, c'mon, it's Christmas.

Shivering under my blankets, I didn't think that I could ever have a chance at a god Christmas this year.

* * *

"Hey, girl, you up?" Tommy's voice called softly through our door.

I jumped up, escaping Death By Tangled Blankets by mere seconds, and padded to the door. "Depends," I said with the side of my face pressed against the white wood. "Are you going to wake the whole house up?"

He was smirking. I knew he was, even though I couldn't see him. "…Maybe."

As I opened the door, I was smirking as well. "Then yes, Quincy, I'm up."

"Good." He kissed me softly, the smirk still playing on his lips. "So, what's the easiest way to wake them all up?"

A devilish smile worked its way across my face. "C'mon, let's start with Lizzy."

* * *

Lizzy's room, if I have not gone into this before, is just like Lizzy herself—a place of so many bright colors that your first thought is, "Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore…"

Lizzy herself was sprawled across her bed, tangled in her bright pink sheets. She had one of those little eyes masks on. It was electric blue and read, _"Beauty Sleeping" _in little pink rhinestones.

The best way to wake Lizzy was to simply yank the blankets and send her sprawling. (Slightly mean, but very effective.)

"Your turn to watch," I whispered to Tommy, who waggled his eyebrows suggestively. I hit him playfully. "Perv."

"Go ahead, Miss Harrison," he laughed. "Work your bad girl magic."

I grabbed the edge of Lizzy's comforter and gave it a yank. Lizzy tumbled down with the blanket. She let out a pathetic whimper and moaned, "_Juuuude!" _

She sat up, pushing up her sleeping mask with the base of her palm, and looked at me sleepily. Her pink tank top was exposed from the blankets now. It said Hot Stuff.

Give me ironic.

Flash.

"Merry Christmas, Lizzy," I said innocently. She yawned widely in response. I caught sight of her alarm clock—it was only like six-thirty. _Oops. _No wonder she's tired.

She held out her hands and looked at me blankly. I stepped forward, grabbed her hands, and pulled her to her feet. She promptly fell over, having gotten tripped by the blankets, and we both fell backwards. Tommy caught the both of us.

"My knight in shining armor!" I laughed as the three of us righted ourselves.

"Is Shayla up yet?" Lizzy asked, not quite as sleepy now.

"Nope." I smiled. "We're saving him for last."

* * *

The intercom by my door buzzed, showing that someone downstairs wanted in. I trudged over to the crappy intercom, dragging my blankets behind me. I pressed down the talk button and glumly said, "Hello?"

_"Jude! It's Wally and Kyle! Buzz us in!" _It was Wally's voice that cut through the static.

I smiled, deeply touched by the fact that they'd left their families on Christmas to come here. "I'll do that," I said into the intercom. I then hit the button that would open the gate downstairs.

Two minutes later, there was a knock on my door.

* * *

Soon, Kwest and Ty had been awakened by our lovely Christmas cheer. The five of us were now gathered around Shay's bed, staring at the sleeping boy.

"So, he's a heavy sleeper, huh?" Kwest's words came out as more of a statement than a question.

"Yep," Lizzy answered.

"He's the only one that can ever wake him up," I inserted.

"Sit on him," Tommy suggested.

Cue scoffs from Lizzy and I. "That would just cut off his air supply," I informed Tommy.

"We've tried," Lizzy added.

"Yank him off the bed," Kwest offered.

"We've tried," I said.

"Didn't work," Lizzy finished.

Tommy and Kwest fell silent and thought for a moment. After a few seconds of silence, Tommy looked to Kwest and said, "You grab his legs, I've got his shoulders."

"What!" Ty protested to them, stopping when Tommy and Kwest picked up the _still _sleeping Shay and began walking toward the door.

"Guys…" I trailed off, following. "Don't you dare…"

Somehow Kwest managed to open the front door, letting in a burst of cold air. Snow covered the ground with at least seven inches of cold.

"Tom!" Ty growled. "Kwest! _Don't—"_

The two older guys threw Shay into a snowdrift. Lizzy burst out laughing. Ty stumbled—barefoot—through the snow to get over to Shay. I whapped Tommy upside the head. "That was mean!"

Shay was now sitting upright in the snow, shivering in his thin t-shirt. White clumps of snow were sprinkled throughout his black hair. His face was already tinted with pink from the frigid air. Ty tripped, and tumbled to a halt beside him.

Shay looked at him blankly for a few seconds. Ty looked back, just as expressionless. Ty suddenly flung himself at Shay, and both of them disappeared into the snow drifts again.

"Keep it G!" Lizzy called, giggling.

Give me cute.

Flash.

"Come on, let's go do presents," Ty finally said, popping back up. He seemed rather excited. I wanted to know what he was planning.

"Y-yeah!" Shay burst, stuttering from the low temperature he'd (literally) been thrown into. Ty pulled Shay to his feet, and we all went back inside.

Shay shook the snow from his hair, intentionally getting Tommy and Kwest wet, and then went back to our room to get changed. Ty followed, as his clothes were in there, too.

Tommy realized that I was shivering and grabbed his jacket form the couch. He hung it over my shoulders. It was heavy and warm. It smelled like him. Just for the record, Tommy was obsessive about his jacket. Ty and Kwest did not go anywhere _near _it, because they knew how much Tommy loved it…and how much he would hurt them if something happened to it. So, uh, yeah, this was a big deal in many ways.

"Merry Christmas," he said, nuzzling my neck.

"Merry Christmas," I replied, smiling.

* * *

I opened the door to see Wally and Kyle standing there with big smiles on their faces. I flung myself at them, happy to see anyone that actually cared about me.

"Good to see you, too, Blondie," Kyle laughed.

"I can't believe you guys came."

"Like we were going to let you spend Christmas alone," Wally scoffed. "C'mon, let's go—we're gonna have fun."

Without asking for details, I grinned and grabbed my shoes.

Give me adventure.

Flash.

* * *

Ten minutes later, we were all sitting cross-legged around our little Christmas tree, the fire crackling happily in the fireplace. (We'd never been able to figure out the fireplace—thank God for Tommy!)

Shay and Ty were both dried off now, though it was easy to see that their hair was still damp. Both were sneezing every few minutes. They were gonna be sick for a while.

"Okay, who wants to go first?" Lizzy asked, clapping her hands. "No! Wait, I want to!"

A ripple of laughter went through the room—that was _so _typical Lizzy. She grabbed a brightly colored gift bag from beneath the tree and held it out to me with a grin. I took it from her and immediately looked for the card. _"Merry Christmas, Juderific!" _I read aloud. _"Now you don't have a 'no make-up' excuse. Bring on the make-overs, chicky!"_

This brought a fresh round of laughs. I opened the bag and pulled out a small case that contained brightly colored eye shadows and eyeliners. Also in the gift bag was a dark blue camera bag—something I'd been in desperate need of since my original bag had torn. "Aww, Liz!" I burst. "Thank you!"

"Ha, I thought you'd like it," she giggled. Her expression turned serious. "But I mean it about the make-over, Jude Harrison!"

"I know, I know…"

Give me fear for the retinas' of the world's population.

Flash.

"SHAYLA! Your turn!" She thrust a bag at Shay, who began to reach for it and then sneezed so hard that he fell over backwards. I smacked Tommy on the arm. "You made him sick," I scolded. "Want some tissues, Shay?"

He shook his head, sitting back up and taking his gift from Lizzy. He, like I had, reached for the card first. He read it to himself, mouthing the words. A blush accompanied a smile on his face. "Liz-eh," he laughed, shaking his head at her. "You have a sick mind, girlie."

Lizzy beamed like this was something to take pride in.

Shay pulled out a journal, black bound with a silver title of "Journal". (Highly original, yes?) He met eyes with Lizzy again and blushed deeper, now as red as a tomato. He then shot me a look that read, _"I'll tell you later." _I nodded, and he pulled another book out of the bag—a brand new copy of _Invisible Monsters._

(Shay's copy was so dog-eared and read that it was hard to tell what _book _it was—he read it at least once a week.)

Shay thanked Lizzy with a hug, his blush finally fading. He offered to go next.

* * *

I never knew that the mall was open on Christmas. I think that may actually be more than a tad sacrilegious, but whatever.

Here I was with Wally and Kyle, wrecking havoc minor enough to keep the few security guard's attention elsewhere.

"Hey…" Wally said slowly as we walked near the center of the mall. "You know what we should do?"

"What?" I giggled.

Give me cheer.

Flash.

"Go get our pictures taken with Santa." A grin was spreading across his face.

"You mean the guy over there that's probably an ex-con that couldn't get a job at the circus?" I teased.

Wally looked at me with wide eyes. "Do not defile the sacred image of Santa!"

Sometimes I really wondered what this kid was smoking and why he hadn't offered me some. "Okay, okay, let's go get a picture with Santa…"

* * *

Shay got Lizzy the special-edition DVD set for the first season of Alias, her favorite show. (Until it got axed back in '06, of course.) There had been much squealing and hugging after this.

Now, I was opening the card Shay had gotten me. _"Jude-girl," _it read. _"You're the best friend I've ever had, and I love you to death for it. Here's to us having the best Christmas ever. I hope you like this. Love, Shay."_

"Five bucks says they bought each other the same thing," Ty bargained teasingly. Everyone agreed to this but Shay and I.

"Please, we are _way _more creative than that," Shay argued back.

I handed him his gift. "Both of us at the same time, mmkay? Let's prove 'em wrong."

He nodded, grinning. We both looked into our bags, and then burst out laughing.

In my bag was the Chevelle CD _Vena Sera_, and the same pair of jeans I'd bought for Shay, but in a darker wash.

_"See?" _Ty burst. "They're _mind twins!"_

"Eh, mind twins are awesome," I laughed. "Don't hate."

"Psh," was his answer.

"Thanks," Shay and I said to each other in unison. Ty laughed again. Shay pulled an envelope from beneath the tree and handed it to him.

Ty opened it, looked inside, and then burst into a huge, excited grin. "Holy sht, you are amazing, Shay!" He proudly held up two tickets for the next After-Dark Horror Fest. (Shay had seen them at the Hot Topic at the mall and knew that they would be great for horror-freak Ty.) He hugged Shay, still beaming, and thanked him.

"Okay, okay, I want to go next," Ty said after a moment. Lizzy handed him the little box that read, _"To Shay, From Ty". _

Inside the box was a small silver band on a chain. Ty began to explain. "I know that we haven't known each other too long, but I really love you, Shay. And this…it's a promise that I'll always be here, and that someday maybe we could be…even more than we are now."

To say that Shay tackled him would be a bit of an understatement.

Give me real.

Flash.

* * *

"Aren't you kids a little old for this?" the bored-looking woman in an elf-suit asked us.

Wally turned his Innocent, Really! eyes on her and said, "Old for what?"

"Ma'am, my cousin's a little bit on the retarded side," I said after covering Wally's ears with my hands. "The doctor says it's best to just let him believe what he wants."

The woman looked from me to Wally's wide eyes, and then waved us into the miniature Santa's Village. I sat down on the Poser-Santa's lap, as had already been agreed.

"Little girl, what would _you _like for Christmas?" the Poser asked.

"For you to get your hand off my (arse), please and thank you," I said, smiling toward the camera. Kyle stifled his laugh.

"Smile," the elf-woman said in the same dead tone.

_Flash._

* * *

Kwest, Ty, and Tommy exchanged gifts among themselves and before long, only Tommy and I were left.

"You first," he insisted. "Mine's going to take a while."

Shay and Lizzy giggle/snorted at this. Pervs.

"Okay," I said, pulling my small gift bag from beneath the tree and handing it to him. He read the card and then pulled out the first part of my gift to him—a pack of guitar strings. Mostly because, well, that's what he's _always _coming into Morgan's to buy. (Excuses, excuses…)

Tommy smirked. "You are one-of-a-kind, Harrison." He then pulled out the other half of his gift—a talking picture frame with a picture of the two of us in it. He hit the play button and a slightly staticky version of my voice filled the room. "_Hey Tommy. It's Jude. I just wanted to say I love you! Merry Christmas!"_

Tommy leaned over and kissed me. "One-of-a-kind," he repeated. "All right…my turn." He looked to Shay, who stood up and grabbed his acoustic guitar from its stand on the other side of the room. He handed it to Tommy, who thanked him. "This is for you, girl," Tommy told me.

A song? Oh, my God, he is too amazing.

He started to play, and after a few bars, began softly singing. _"When I see you smile, tears roll down my face. I can't replace… And now that I'm stronger, I've figured out how this world turns cold and breaks through my soul, and I know I'll find deep inside me, I can be the one… I will never let you fall. I'll stand up with you forever. I'll be there for you through it all. Even if saving you sends me to heaven. It's okay, it's okay…"_

My vision was blurring with tears.

Give me beautiful.

Flash.

_"Seasons are changing and waves are crashing, and stars are falling all for us. Days grow longer and nights grow shorter. I can show you I'll be the one…"_

As he went into the chorus again, tears were falling. This—this was the best gift I'd ever been given.

_"Cuz you're my, you're my, my true love, my whole heart. Please don't throw that away! Cuz I'm here for you. Please don't walk away. Please tell me you'll stay, stay. Use me as you will, pull my strings just for a thrill! And I know I'll be okay, though my skies are turning grey, grey! I will never let you fall! I'll stand up with you forever! I'll be there for you through it all! Even if saving you sends me to heaven…"_

His voice trailed off as the last chord rang out. The second he moved the guitar, I fell into his arms. He rubbed a hand up and down my back as I squeezed him tighter than ever, my tears wetting his shirt.

Give me love.

Flash.

Give me adoration.

Flash.

Give me everything I've ever wanted and more.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: The song is "Your Guardian Angel" by the Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. And, for the record, if some guy performed that just for me, I would be bawling. So, anyway, hope y'all liked this! Please review, whether you liked it or not. Like I said last chapter, I really would like to see what I'm doing well and not so well. I love honest people? Haha, so, yeah. Until next time... 


	11. In Which Snow is a Weapon

A/N: Hey y'all, I'm gonna try a different type of censoring from now on, mmkay? I hadn't thought of this, and someone pointed it out to me and it would actually work a lot better than what I have been doing.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but Shay, Ty, Lizzy, other random OCs, and my plot. The rest belongs to the Instant Star people.

Note2: I'm currently listening to "Beauty Cries" by Candlefuse, which is this band that played at our big church weekend thing back in like, February. They're pretty awesome. :)

* * *

_Chapter Eleven  
_"_In Which Snow is a Weapon"_

Three days after Christmas, the six of us piled into Shay's car. (Shay, Ty, Lizzy, and I—the smallest—crammed into the back seat. Tommy drove.) We were off to 620 to have the snowball fight of a lifetime.

There would be nine of us, and so we would be splitting into three teams. We'd put names in a hat to pick them. They ended up as follows:

Team A: Lizzy, Kwest, and Wally.

Team B: Tommy, Ty, and Kyle.

Team C: Shay, me, and—you saw this coming, don't lie—Spiederman.

Fun.

If that jackss thinks he's safe from my Iceball of Doom just because he's on my team, he's crazy.

Give me revenge.

Flash.

* * *

The day of eighteenth birthday, I came home to see my mom and Don sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for me.

"Jude," Don said, motioning for me to sit. I didn't. I crossed my arms and rose an eyebrow at him.

"What?" I wouldn't let him boss me around. Wouldn't let him scare me. Never again.

Give me rebellious.

Flash.

"You've been nothing but a burden since your father left," Don continued. "You've done nothing but bring your mother and I down—"

"And all you've done since you moved in here is drink," I fired in.

"—and so we've come to a decision," he said smoothly, raising his voice to cover mine.

"What kind of '_decision'?_" I snapped, seething.

"Jude, honey, you need to find somewhere else to stay," my mother—my own flesh and blood—told me, not even pretending to be remorseful. "We're kicking you out."

* * *

Tommy filled in the SME boys on the teams and then we split up into the snow, readying ourselves for battle.

This may not be the type of thing you would expect college-aged kids to do, but it was too much of an opportunity to pass up. And besides, Shay and I had both lost a year of our childhood, fending for ourselves. We deserved the innocent fun of a snowball fight now.

I avoided talking to Spiederman. God, I avoided _looking _at Spiederman. I just stuck to Shay while Shay animatedly talked to both sides of the broken Juderman.

"Hey, uh…Jude?" Spiederman said when Shay paused for air. (Shay didn't do awkward silences—he always babbled to fill them in.)

"What?" I asked in a monotone.

"I'm sorry." He paused for a split-second. "I mean—I was a really stupid kid. I hurt you and I really, um, I really regret it."

I stopped him by chucking a snowball right in his face.

He shook off the snow and then said, "I guess I deserved that."

"Um, yeah, (arse)wipe," I shot, crossing my arms. "Do you not realize that cheating is one of the worst things you can do to a girl?"

"I didn't," Spiederman admitted. "But I do now…and I have known since the last time I talked to you back home."

Oh, now there's a story he wouldn't be soon forgetting.

Give me anger.

Flash.

Give me tears.

Flash.

Give me a textbook hurtling toward his head.

Uh, yeah. Flash.

Shay was watching our little spat, looking quite interested. I could tell that he was debating whether or not to chuck a snowball at Spiederman's face, as I was.

I narrowed my eyes at my ex, trying to think of some hidden agenda. Finding none, I sighed. "Fine. Apology accepted." I could hardly believe that the words had come from my mouth. Then again, it had been a while…and being the Angry Ex-Girlfriend was _so _last year.

Spiederman smiled. "Awesome." Pause. "So, you ready for the snow war of your life, Red?"

* * *

The words hit me like knives. "What? You can't just do that."

Of course, I knew that they could—they'd done the same to Sadie. I just couldn't quite process this fact just yet. The fact that Don was yet again attempting to ruin my life. I wondered for what must have been the millionth time what I'd done to make him hate so much.

"You're eighteen, Jude," the Stepfather From Hell said smugly. "Legally, you can live on your own, and so, _legally, _we can kick you out."

_He _would know, Mr. I'm A Lawyer When I'm Not Hungover.

Legally. Right.

Give me bullsht.

Flash.

"Your things are packed," he continued, a dark gleam in his eyes. "A moving truck will be here tomorrow."

My eyes were smoldering with hatred for the strangers before me. I ran up the stairs to my room, trying to keep my anger in check before I exploded.

* * *

Shay, Spiederman, and I were crouched behind a low wall, roughly thirty snowballs apiece around us. We were eagerly awaiting our first target.

"Remember," Shay whispered melodramatically. "Don't shoot until you can see the whites of their eyes."

This went completely over Spiederman's head—he'd never paid attention in history—but I smiled. "Sure thing," I whispered back.

Our first victim walked into our alley, a snowball in each gloved hand. Ty. He scanned the alley, and, not seeing us, began unknowingly walking right into our trap.

Once he got close enough, Shay jumped up and fired off two white clumps. One hit Ty in the shoulder, the other on the side of his head.

Before he could retaliate, Spiederman and I jumped up and chucked our own snowballs at him. Four hit him at the same time. He fell back dramatically, tossing his ammo as he did so. Both missed. "Retreat!" he yelled to the sky.

I could hear Tommy and Kyle swear and run. Chickens. Well, now we had a prisoner. "C'mon, Ty, up," Shay said to said prisoner.

He stood up. He admitted defeat, smart boy that he was. He pulled a sad-puppy face at Shay.

"Not falling for it," Shay lied, laughing. Ty heaved a heavy sigh.

"Fine."

Two seconds later, before any of us had time to even think, he turned and bolted.

Silly boy. Like we wouldn't get him later.

* * *

Boxes were piled up in my room. My bed had been disassembled, and the mattress was propped up against the wall. A single red duffle bag provided contrast to the cardboard boxes and empty walls.

I let out a stream of curses, infuriated beyond belief. This wasn't happening. It just _couldn't _be—they couldn't seriously be throwing me out.

My frustration and anger needed to be let out somehow.

I had seen several guys punch walls at times like these. It must do something. I turned and slammed my fist into the wall with all the force that I had in me.

I screamed and yanked back my hand, which was now bleeding. There was a hole in my wall. Um, wow. Guess I was angrier than I thought.

Okay, punching things definitely was not going to make me feel better.

Give me painful.

Flash.

Give me an explicit of your choice, because I probably just screamed whatever you're thinking.

Flash.

* * *

We won.

After two hours of being pelted with snow and ice, the other teams forfeited. Now, we stood in front of the large mural, watching Tommy, Ty, and Kwest add to it.

Tommy added my name is large blue, black, and white letters. Ty added Shay's in green, black, and white. Kwest made a large snowflake and sprayed the words, "Winter '07" in the middle.

When they stepped back to admire their work, I hugged Tommy, smiling at the warmth it provided, even though he was still soaked from the snow.

Being added to the mural was like having insurance that everything would stay like this—happy, simple—forever. It was something permanent—and so way cooler than carving your initials into a tree. It meant that I meant something; that for once I belonged.

Give me family.

Flash.

Give me a home.

* * *

The moving men were there the next day, as promised. They stuck all of the boxes, my bed, everything into the back of a truck. My whole life, emptied from the only home I'd ever known.

Jamie was standing on his porch, watching through confused eyes. "Jude!" he called when he noticed me standing in my yard. "What's going on?"

"The motherfckers are getting rid of me," I told him, making sure that I spoke loud enough for mom and Don to hear me from the other side of the lawn.

"Why?" Oh, innocent, naïve Jamie.

"Because they can."

The conversation died right about there. Unlike a good friend, Jamie didn't bother to ask me if I had somewhere to stay.

It wasn't unexpected, though. I really hadn't spoken to him much since high school started. Then again, he could have at least asked if I was okay.

* * *

Tommy and I were yet again standing out on the fire escape, this time with hot coffee mugs in our hands. "Thanks, "I told him suddenly.

He tilted his head at me. "For what?"

"For being you. For making me feel like…like nothing will ever go wrong again." _For loving me._

He leaned forward, touching his forehead to mine, and looked into my eyes. "I should be thanking you, Harrison." Our lips met briefly before he pulled back again and said, "I love you."

"I love you, too," I whispered back.

Give me comfort.

Flash.

Give me togetherness.

Flash.

Give me my only one.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: Yay, the end. Next chapter'll be up soon. :D And I'm going to start posting a teaser bit for the next chapters of these in my profile, so check that out. I should have it up tomorrow. Review, lovelies, like I know you will. ((bats eyes)) 


	12. In Which There are Resolutions

A/N: Hello, everyone. ;D I don't have much witty to say right now…but for the record? I've been to one of these New Year's things like they're going to…mine was at a big train station in Kansas City, but it's the same diff. Really nice and fancy and black-tie, but also cheap. So don't be thinking white trash during this, lol.

Note2: I am currently listening to "False Pretense" by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. It's a pretty awesome song. (Hint, hint, go buy their CD.) The video's pretty trippy too. Check it out. :)

* * *

_Chapter Twelve  
_"_In Which There Are Resolutions" _

"Saaaadie?"

"Yesssss?"

"Whatcha doin'?"

"Watchin' TV."

"Oh." I stood behind the couch, barely able to see over the top of it. I fidgeted, being a little more jumpy and ADD than most eight-year-olds.

Sadie finally turned around. "You need something?" she asked.

"Daddy wants to take us to the movies."

Sadie's eyes lit up. "What kind of movie?"

"A scary one."

"C'mon, Jude, whatcha waiting for?! Let's go!"

* * *

I wore a black, satin dress with no straps. It clung to me comfortably, and loosened enough at the bottom that it flew around me when I spun around for Lizzy and Shay.

Give me confident.

Flash.

Give me sexy. Rawr.

Flash.

Lizzy was wearing a dress very similar to mine—we'd rented them from the same person—and her make-up was different shades of glittering gold and silver. Her fiery hair was held in a bun by two black chopsticks.

Shay was wearing a white tux—also rented—and black eyeliner. Even the fantabulous Shay had drawn the line when Lizzy had come at him with the neon colors.

Now, why are we so dressed up? Why are we making such a big deal?

Because it is New Year's Eve. Time to tell '07 to kiss my (arse) and then run to '08 with open arms. To do this, we were going to the mall—yes, the _mall, _you event-snob—for the night. There was a big New Year's thing going on, and it was always fun to dress up every once in a while.

"Well, ladies," Shay said. "Your chariot awaits…"

He grabbed his keys from the counter and held the door open. Once outside, I realized that it was probably _really _dumb to be walking through the snow in heels and a strapless dress. Oops. Blame it on my hair color. (Spazticness is one of the drawbacks of being a stereotypical Aryan.)

In the car, I sat up front. Shay drove. Lizzy sat in the backseat, chattering excitedly.

I think that all of us were a bit more than giddy about seeing the guys, who would be meeting us there. I know I was.

Shay turned on the CD player and hit it to track eight. He started singing along. _"I've got the gift of one-liners and you've" (_he pointed to me) "_got the curse of curves. And with this gift, I compose words and the question that comes forward…" _He turned his head to the car driving beside us as he sang, "_Are you perspiring from the irony?" _The passenger in that car gave him a "WTF?" look. "_You're a dead fit! But my wit won't allow it! The inside lingo had me at hello, and you go where the money goes…"_

He turned back to the road and burst out the chorus, drumming dramatically on the steering wheel like a complete and total moron. _"I want someone provocative and talkative, but it's so hard when you're shallow as a shower!"_

"SHAYLA!" Lizzy screamed, obviously getting paranoid. "DRIVE!"

Shay smiled sheepishly at her through the rear view mirror and put his hands back on the wheel.

Gotta love him.

* * *

Sadie and I sat on either side of our father, watching the movie with wide, glossy eyes. I wasn't quite sure what movie it was, but I did know that everything in it was popping out at me and scaring the living daylights out of me.

Dad seemed to like it, though, and so I dealt with it.

The thing was, daddy worked a lot .he had to be at the office all day, and sometimes he didn't come home until long after we were all asleep.

We didn't get many chances to see our dad, let alone hang out with him. We jumped at any chance, no matter how scary the movie or the nightmares that followed were.

I screamed and grabbed dad's arm when yet another person got stabbed on screen.

* * *

One guy had the balls to stop us in our tracks and congratulate Shay. "Two chicks? One for both arms? Dmn, man, good job."

For the record, we were polite. We didn't snort with our previously stifled laughter until _after _the idiot had walked past us.

Tommy, Ty, and Kwest were waiting for us in the food court, each standing along a wall in their black suits. Tommy wasn't wearing a tie. Ty's tie was loose. Kwest still had his on.

Ty and Tommy saw us at about the same time. Their reactions were almost as great as them just being here. Ty's entire face lit up at the sight of Shay.

Tommy's face softened, his mouth forming a genuine smile. He walked up to us, slid an arm around my waist, and said to Shay, "Mind if I take this one?"

"Go ahead," Shay said, untangling his arm from mine. "I've got to find someone too…"

He split from Lizzy and walked over to Ty. Tommy pulled me closer to him, wrapping both arms around my waist. I put my arms lightly around his neck and rested my head against his chest. We swayed to the soft music that was pumping through the mall's speakers. The only music I needed, though, was the steady beating of Tommy's heart, perfectly in sync with mine.

* * *

"So, what did you girls think?" my dad asked us as we walked out of the theater.

Sadie caught my wide-eyed look of terror before faux-smiling and enthusiastically bursting, "I loved it, daddy! Can we go see it again?"

He laughed and ruffled her hair. "Maybe next time, sweetheart. We've got to be home for dinner soon."

Sadie pulled a disappointed face, and dad hugged her. "Next time. I promise."

I just stood there, feeling as awkward and left out as an eight-year-old can.

Give me neglect.

Flash.

* * *

Soon, the six of us were sitting around a round table that was covered with a white tablecloth. I sat between Tommy and Lizzy. Each of us had a (plastic, but nice looking) champagne flute with sparkling grape juice in it.

"So, time for New Year's resolutions," Ty stated after checking his watch. (There were seven minutes left in 2007.)

Tommy and Kwest groaned. "Every year, man," Kwest complained. "Why do you do this?"

"_Kwest. _Do _not _get him started on tradition again," Tommy warned.

Oh, what silly, silly boys.

"I'll start," Ty declared, since no else did. "My New Year's resolution is to not slack off so much. Care a little bit more, I guess."

Lizzy piped up next. "My New Year's resolution is to get a perfect boyfriend." She crinkled her nose at Shay and I in turn. "You two can't be the only, y'know."

"My New Year's resolution is to graduate," Kwest reluctantly joined in, "and I guess to find a girlfriend that isn't a two-timing slut."

He shot Tommy a look that I noticed, but Tommy ignored. (Tommy had filled me in—this girl Portia Mills had dated both of them earlier this year. They found out and beat the sht out of each other. Hence my first sighting of these boys.)

"My New Year's resolution," Tommy piped in, "is to graduate and open a real studio."

Well, might as well talk now. "Mine's to forgive more and let go of my grudges."

All eyes went to Shay. He looked at us all for a moment, flustered. Obviously, he hadn't done the whole resolutions thing before. "Um, not to die?" He shook his head, smiling, and then added, "Nah, I guess just to get through all of this crazy stuff and come out alive."

Ty raised his glass. "To 2008."

We drank to it. There were now about thirty seconds left in 2007.

When the countdown started, Tommy took my hand. "Ten! Nine! Eight!"

* * *

The door shut, and the three of us walked into our house. Mom was sitting in the living room and looked up at us when she heard the door.

"Stuart, you didn't take them to another scary movie," she growled.

"They wanted to see it, Vic," Dad said defensively. (I learned at an early age that men are full of sht. Thanks, Dad!)

"Jude, c'mere," Mom sighed.

Oh, no. She must've noticed that I was plainly terrified. I hesitantly walked over to her. "I wanted to see it, mommy," I told her.

Give me deceit.

Flash.

I knew that it was wrong to lie, but if I told her the truth, there might not be anymore movies with dad. He might love Sadie even more and me even less.

Give me need.

Flash.

* * *

"Seven! Six! Five! Four!" Everyone in the building seemed to be chanting, counting down the seconds in unison. "Three! Two!"

Tommy's mouth covered my own before I could count down the last second. Fireworks exploded in my mind, and it had suddenly gone from December—excuse me, January—to July.

Give me hot.

Flash.

Give me passion.

Flash.

Give me the best way to kick off the new year.

Flash.

We broke apart only for lack of air. I'm sure that my lip gloss was smeared enough that I could pass as a cheap hooker, but I would ignore that. For now.

Surprising thing of the day: When I turned around, I was met with the sight of Lizzy and Kwest engaged in an _intense _game of tonsil hockey. (Tyla was going at it as well, obviously. That wasn't too shocking, though.)

Well. Looks like two of these resolutions are coming true.

Give me hope.

Flash.

Give me a chance.

Flash.

Give me a drama-free year, for once.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: Woo! So, next chapter is one that you guys will either love or hate...it's the second Shay POV chapter. Which means lots of Tyla and not so much Jommy. But...lots of Tyla. XD So, love it or hate it, just tell me what you think. Of this chapter, too. ;) I know it's kind of filler-ish, but, uh...yeah. Make sure to check my profile for a teaser of next chapter, if you're interested. :D Hope y'all liked this. 


	13. In Which Shay's Past Comes to Haunt Him

A/N: And here is where the drama starts. Zomg, I am so excited. All right, well, this is the second of three Shay POV chapters! Yay! And Shay's flashbacks are all really around the same month or so of his life. That's really the part of his life that's important to the plot. Just sayin'.

Note2: I'm listening to "When I Go Out, I Want to Go Out in a Chariot of Fire" by Escape the Fate. (Have I mentioned how much I love this band lately? Because I do.)

* * *

_Chapter Thirteen  
_"_In Which Shay's Past Comes Back to Haunt Him"_

The first day back to school after a break is always a nightmare, at least for me.

See, the thing is, I like to sleep in. Early classes are not my thing. This is why I scheduled all of my classes for past twelve noon.

Give me lazy.

Flash.

Give me a breakkkk.

Flash.

So, when I got the e-mail saying that my English class had been moved to eight in the morning, well…Shay was not pleased. At all.

Red Bull and hellogoodbye were my best friends on the drive to campus. I parked my car, grabbed my books with one arm, and my Red Bull can with the other.

My English class was close to the parking lot, thankfully. I could crash into my seat soon. (God, I already mentioned lazy, did I not?! C'mon, I'm cold and tired. Cut me some slack.)

A brown-haired girl standing with her friends by the stairs said, "H-hi Shay." (Yeah, she actually stuttered.)

I waved, which was really more opening and closing my hand. Jude had labeled it my retard wave. She'd also called me a merciless flirt for doing it to all the girls who apparently thought I was gorgeous or whatever. Gotta love her.

I can't help it, though. I just mean to be nice and it comes out a little too nice. Meh, whatever. If people haven't realized that I'm straight as a circle (another Jude-ism) by now, then they'll just never learn.

I walked into the class and started toward my seat.

Whoa-ho, wait.

Someone was sitting there. A girl with wavy dark brown hair and dark eyes. She looked up and smiled at me in a way that was far from friendly.

I fumbled to keep from dropping my stuff out of pure shock.

"Hi, Shane," she said in a sneering whisper.

This—this was Chaz's sister.

This was my ex-best friend.

This was the girl who had taken my family from me.

My throat was closing up, but I managed one word—one word that was both her name and the reason I knew she was here. "Karma."

* * *

Two days after my run-in with Chaz and Cowboy, the door to my room opened, revealing my ma and Karma. I was lying on my bed at this point, staring at the ceiling with itching eyes. I had barely moved since coming home.

"Shane, honey?" Ma's voice was concerned. "Karma's here. Are you sure you don't want any medicine?"

She thought it was just some virus. Probably because that's what I'd told her. Somehow I couldn't exactly see myself telling her that my boyfriend of two years had ripped my heart from my chest and rammed it down the throat of some random man-skank. No, that wouldn't go over too well.

Give me clandestine.

Flash.

I just nodded my head slowly. I probably looked stoned. Or dead. Who knows. I didn't care.

Karma walked into the room with a polite, "Thank you, Mrs. Morgans." The door shut, and Karma walked over to my bed. She sat down. "Shane?"

I moved my eyes to meet hers. I was expecting to see sympathy, or maybe comfort, in them, but I found something else.

Give me anger.

Flash.

"You broke Chaz's heart," she said in a whisper. "He won't leave the apartment."

I sat up some, anger flooding through my veins. "He cheated on me, Kar. He cheated on me, and you're saying _I _broke _his _heart?"

"Mason is just a friend."

"_Karma! _They were making out on Chaz's bed!" I whisper-yelled.

"You're going to get back with him, and you're going to apologize," Karma said in a quiet, level voice.

"Sorry, _hun, _Jedi-mind-trick doesn't work on me." (Okay, knowing that quote is so not my fault—Karma had made me watch _How to Deal _one too many times.)

"Then you'll pay for it."

Like she could do anything to me. She stood up and walked out of the room. I flopped back down, face down in my pillow, and yelled into the cloth as loud as my lungs would let me.

* * *

"Why are you here?" I asked. My entire body had tensed. Everyone in the room was watching curiously. They were probably wondering why the fck I was spazzing out at the new girl.

"Education," Karma said, smiling innocently.

I shook my head in disbelief and slumped down in a chair a few seats over. My heart was beating faster than it ever had.

I don't get it.

Everything was going _perfect. _I was finally _happy _again. Why was this happening to me? Why know?

I needed to breathe. I needed to breathe and calm down before I had an attack. My breaths were becoming shallower and shallower. I tried not to let anyone notice.

Give me fear.

Flash.

* * *

I was a mess for the next week. It was like I was walking through water with a bullet in my chest. Everywhere I turned, I had memories of Chaz and I. It was murder.

A week and a day after my birthday, I walked back into the house after having spent the day bumming around at the Barnes and Nobel in town.

Karma was sitting on the couch in my living room, facing my parents. She looked up at me with a wicked gleam in her eyes. I didn't understand this smugness until my eyes were drawn to the video camera connected to our television.

My mouth went dry.

On the screen was a video from one of the many nights I'd stayed over at Chaz's with him and Karma. I was smiling and laughing as Chaz kissed me on the neck. then, on-screen me turned and kissed Chaz right on the mouth, slow and obviously meaningful.

My stomach churned. I could feel myself going completely white.

No. No, no, no, this wasn't happening. She isn't doing this to me. My _best friend _could not be doing this to me.

"Well?" my father growled. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I…" Words choked off. I couldn't say anything to the look that he was giving me.

Give me rage.

Flash.

Give me hatred.

Flash.

Give me…give me disgust.

Flash.

I tried again. "Dad—"

"No," he said, snarling. "You're no son of mine."

My jaw dropped slightly. I know that hurt had to be all over my expression, because it was flooding through my body like a venom. He couldn't be serious. He just _couldn't. _

"You're not my son," he continued, giving me a look that made me shrink away from him, "because _my _Shane isn't a _fag. _That's not how he was raised. _My _son is a _normal _boy. You—I don't know _who _you are, but you're _not _him."

Every word prodded that bullet in my chest just a little bit further in. I couldn't breathe. My head was spinning like an amusement park ride. Pain shot through my lungs, chest, and arms.

Ma tried to get up and come to me, but the man who was my father stopped her.

"George, he's having an attack," Ma pleaded.

"Stay there, Rosalie." He threatened her with his eyes.

I sunk to the ground, cross-legged, my hands digging into the back of my head and neck.

She meant panic attack. I'd had them whenever I got majorly stressed ever since the fifth grade when I'd realized that I wasn't like everyone else.

They hurt. They made me feel sick. They always did.

This was worse. This was mind-numbing _pain, _and my lungs were screaming for air. I nearly begged God to let the hyperventilating start. At least then I'd have a little bit of air.

"George," Ma was pleading. Her voice sounded like it was coming from a thousand miles away. "He's not breathing!"

"Should I do something?" Karma's voice came from the same distance, sounding only vaguely concerned.

Honey, you wanted a scene? You're going to get it. Don't back away now.

I felt a sharp blow to my back. I heard Ma gasp. My father had slapped me on my back.

I started hyperventilating.

I nearly cried from the feeling of having air back in my lungs.

Give me relief.

Flash.

* * *

I walked out of class with no idea what had been said. No notes, no photographic memory to study from—nothing. Just a sheen of cold, terrified sweat and a near-panic attack.

I hadn't had one in months. Not since I'd moved here. Not since I left everything that had caused them behind. Nothing like Karma to bring them back. Btch.

Relief washed over me when I saw Ty standing outside the classroom, waiting for me. I trudged over to him and let my head drop onto his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around me and asked, "Shay? You okay?"

Give me concern.

Flash.

I mumbled into him. I'm not quite sure what I was saying, to be honest. I couldn't think straight. (Ha, ha, straight, yeah, you can shut up now.)

Ty rested his head on top of mine and held me tighter. Over his heartbeat, I heard a girl's voice go, "Aww!" and a guy's go, "Fags."

One of Ty's hands lifted briefly before laying back on me. Knowing him, he'd shot that dude a rather obscene guesture. "Hey, it's okay, baby," he said soothingly. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head. I really just needed him to hold me at the moment.

* * *

When the attack had finally passed, I stayed in the same position on the floor. I couldn't look at my parents or the She-Devil. My back was throbbing from the force of the slap my father had given me.

He cleared his throat. "Give me your keys."

I pulled the keys to my car out of my pocket and held it out. I was still focused on my Vans. My father snatched them from my hand. "Now get out of my house."

I forced myself to look at him. He had anger and finality in his eyes. "Why?" I asked, my voice soft. "It—it's not like I _chose _this! I'm still your _son!" _I was on my feet now.

My father took two steps toward me. "No," he sneered. "No, not anymore."

I never saw his fist coming. One second I was standing, and the next I was staring at the ceiling with stars spinning around my head and blood flowing from my nose. "Get out," he repeated.

I stood up shakily, a hand over my throbbing nose, and walked outside.

It was pouring. I stood in the middle of the street with rain soaking through my clothes and my flesh.

Give me rejection.

Flash.

* * *

"You left this inside, Shane."

Fck. She was not ruining Ty-time. That lowly little life-ruining skank.

I turned so that I was leaning against Ty and facing Karma. Ty's arms wrapped around my waist, and he rested his chin on my shoulder.

Karma was holding my binder. (Great, now I had to disinfect it. Who knows how many STDs this skank has?) She wasn't looking at me. She was eyeing Ty. The edges of her mouth pulled up in an innocent smile. "Who's this, Shane?"

I gave her a dark look. My stomach was twisting into knots. "Ty," I told her. "My boyfriend." I put my best _"MINE! _Back off, btch!" look on.

"Well. You're doing good then." She smiled flirtatiously at him. "I'm Karma. Shane and I grew up together."

_Yeah, and then you got me disowned, you btch, _I thought angrily.

"That's awesome!" Of course, Ty was insanely friendly to everyone, even if they are quite obviously Satan. "See, Shay? Things are getting better already."

God, he can be a totally oblivious moron sometimes.

"Hey…me and Shay are going out to lunch," Ty said slowly.

Oh, no. No, no, no, Ty, shut up…

"You should come!"

Karma locked eyes with me and smirked. "I'd love to."

Dmmit, Ty! What the fck are you _thinking? _I mean, honestly—can he not see that I'm completely freaking out here? Jeez!

I said nothing, though, as he told her what restaurant to meet us at and what time. I wasn't ready to tell anyone the whole story. So I just went with it, forcing myself to ignore the wink that Karma gave Ty before she walked away.

* * *

I found a covered bus stop near the entrance to my neighborhood and sat down in the corner, glad to be out of the rain. I was shivering in my rain-drenched clothes. My nose was still bleeding. My face and my back were throbbing.

The bullet had been pushed straight through me, and a hole had been left in its place.

I drew my knees up to my chest and buried my face in them.

There, alone in a bus stop in the pouring rain, no one heard me break down. No one saw my shoulders shaking or my heart falling apart.

* * *

McAllister's was my favorite place to eat. Thankfully, Ty loved it, too. It was where we'd almost always go on dates. We knew the staff by name, and they knew our orders by heart.

Ty and I were sitting in our normal booth, facing each other. Karma had yet to show up, which I was thankful for. Neither of us were talking.

Ty folded his arms on the table and rested his head on them. He looked up at me from under his bangs. "Shay? What's going on with you?" He was pulling the puppy eyes on me. He knew how fast they could make me melt. "You're so sad. You're freaking me out. What's wrong?"

All right. Deep breath, Shay. You can do this. "Ty, it's—"

"Hey, boys," came Karma's voice. "Sorry I'm late. Traffic's a killer."

Btch! Motherfcking btch!

Karma slid into the seat beside Ty before he could get up to sit next to me. She sat way too close to him. I gave her a death glare. She just gave me that smug smile again. "Where were we earlier?"

I just looked at her blankly. Ty looked from me to Karma and then back to me. He tilted his head in a confused manner. I didn't respond.

"So…Ty." Karma placed a manicured hand lightly on Ty's forearm. "How long have you two been together?"

Ty thought for a moment, counting back. "About a month and a half," he finally said.

"Really?" She smiled at him. I could've killed her. "Not that long then." I could see the demons in her mind laughing and plotting.

Satan. She is _Satan. _She's found the person that I love, and I can just see it in her eyes that she was going to go after him next. She would use him to ruin me.

They lapsed into conversation, and I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. Discreetly, I started texting a message to Jude and Lizzy. "SOS," it read. "McAllisters. Help. T-T."

I hit send and prayed that they had their phones with them.

I couldn't deal with this skank on my own, and Ty obviously wasn't going to do much to help me.

* * *

I woke up feeling stiff and sore. Sleeping in a bus stop will do that to you, I guess. For a few moments, I panicked.

Where was I? What had happened?

Then the memories flooded back, and I let out a low moan. This really sucked. I wished for more of the ignorance of sleep, but I knew that I wouldn't be getting more any time soon.

The sun was just coming up, and the rain water had risen to thicken the air. Cars were going past, and the people in them took no notice of me. It wouldn't have been the first time they'd seen a homeless kid in this city.

Homeless kid. That's what I was now.

Where am I supposed to go? Now that I knew this was real, the reality of it was crushing down on me.

I looked up in time to see a familiar car stopping at the sign. My father glanced over and met my eyes. Even from here, I could see a flash of pity.

I must have looked a mess. I could feel the dried blood on my face. I was dirty from the rain and the ground. I felt sick and probably looked dead. I watched him through eyes that weren't quite living until he pulled away, putting his eyes back on the road. It spoke louder than any of his words had.

Give me abandonment.

Flash.

* * *

Ten minutes after I hit send, my saviors showed up.

"Shay!" Jude called, smiling brightly. "What're you doing here?" She sat down next to me and gave me a hug. "We'll handle the skank, 'kay?" she whispered as she did so.

"Thanks," I whispered back.

Lizzy climbed over Karma, forcing her to move away from Ty. Karma sneered at her. Ty looked bewildered. I smiled. _Take that, skank, _my smile said. "Hey, guys, hope ya don't mind," Lizzy said cheerfully.

"And you are?" Karma snapped, letting her horns show.

"Jude Harrison," Jude replied. "Shay's my best friend." She gave Karma a look that made it clear exactly what she'd do to her if she didn't back off. Note to self: Stay on Jude's good side.

"Great." Karma shot a dark look at her. She had to know that he plans were ruined—at least, for now.

Ha, ha, skank. Point One for Team Shay.

* * *

Around midday, I still hadn't moved. I didn't know where I would go, and I really didn't have the will to go there anyway.

This turned out to be a good thing, though. My ma showed up and found me, still near brain-dead.

"Shane, honey," she said quietly.

I looked up at her, immediately tensing. I couldn't handle another confrontation at the moment. She kneeled down in front of me and put a hand on my shoulder. I hadn't realized how badly I was shaking until I felt her warm, still hand.

"We've got a few hours before you father gets home," she told me. "Let's get you cleaned up, okay?"

I searched her eyes for any signs of trickery. Finding none, I nodded mutely. I stood up slowly and followed her to the car.

* * *

"You two are amazing," I told Jude and Lizzy once we'd all gotten home. "I mean—God, you're both _fierce!"_

"Yeah, we know," Lizzy boasted.

"Like we were going to let some slut-faced hoe-bag skank-btch move in on your man," Jude scoffed. She reached out her hand and messed up my hair. I let it slide. This time. "But seriously, who was that?"

I blew air out, moving the hair from my eyes. "Okay. Well…here's the deal…"

The story of Karma's betrayal spilled out before I could stop it. The dam had broken and I couldn't keep anything back anymore. Not from these two. When I finished, Jude screamed, "_That _BTCH! _I'll kill her!" _From the anger in her eyes, she was serious.

Lizzy hugged me. "Don't worry, Shayla. The Skank-Btch won't get anywhere near you if she doesn't want some serious catfight bruises."

Give me loyalty.

Flash.

"We'll deal with her, Shay," Jude assured me. "And I'll deal with Ty, too, the little man-skank—"

"No. No, he didn't do anything." He hadn't. He wouldn't. He loves me. Right?

"But that's just it, Shay, he didn't do anything." Jude was getting even more upset now. "He didn't tell her to stop, he didn't move."

"He was just being nice," I said lamely.

Jude sighed and walked over to me. "Shay."

"Jude."

"_Shay!"_

_"Jude!"_

"Lizzy!"

Both of us blinked and looked at Lizzy. The tension was broken, at least on the surface. You could always count on Lizzy for that.

* * *

I packed a bag with clothes, some hygiene stuff, my iPod, my laptop, and a few notebooks. I left my pictures of my friends and family—those didn't really exist anymore, anyway.

My ma had given me my keys back, and so I threw my stuff in the trunk and then went back in to get a few last things. My guitar, for one. A few books, my RENT DVD, a pillow, and a blanket followed.

Two hours after I had come home, I stood by my car, facing Ma. I was showered, changed, and fed, but according to the mirror, my eyes were still dead.

"I'm so sorry," Ma told me, eyes glistening with sorrow and pity. "I'll calm him down, and then you can come home… This will all blow over."

"I know," I told her, even though we both knew that it wouldn't.

She stepped forward and embraced me. "I love you, honey. You know that."

"I love you, too, ma," I said softly. She let go, both physically and, I could see it in her eyes, mentally. "Goodbye."

Then I got in my car and I drove.

* * *

Late at night, I lied awake, staring at the blackness above me. I was replaying the scene at McAllister's over and over again in my mind.

Karma touching Ty. The look in Ty's eyes. The feeling in my heart.

Give me envy.

Flash.

Give me malice.

Flash.

God, Ty, give _me _your attention.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: I don't feel like y'all would think this, but I've got to say it - I don't agree with anything that Shay's dad did. I'm a lover of gay boys. And a lot of my girl-friends are bi, and it doesn't bother me. So yeah. I don't believe any of that rubbish. Anyway, hope you guys liked this chapter! Just tell me what you thought, please. :) 


	14. In Which Karma is a Betch

A/N: Erm, so, I'm out of hibernation? I'm so, so, so, sorry that this update took forever, and that I left you guys off with a chapter like that, and that this one is more of a filler chapter. I'll try not to get that far behind again. The thing is, I was in this horrible block with where I was up to writing (chapters 16 - 21) and I didn't want to post chapter fourteen here yet because I didn't want you guys to have a whole lot more obnoxiously long waits between chapters. So, again, I'm really sorry that this took me so long to post. Don't kill me?

Note2: I'm currently listening to "Southern Weather" by The Almost. If you don't know who The Almost is...well, then you kind of fail right now. Go look them up on purevolume or myspace, listen to them, and then come back and read this. ;)

* * *

_Chapter Fourteen  
_"_In Which Karma is a Btch"_

When I'd walked into my calculus class, I hadn't known who Karma was. But in today's class, I did know, and I wanted to btchslap her across her ugly, sneering face.

Dealing with her was like dealing with that girl that hated me in high school. Sneers, glares, and cutting remarks flew—but this time I wasn't afraid to snap right back at her. I guess that just goes to show what a past can do to change you.

I refused to let her get away with hurting my best friend.

Give me vengeance.

Flash.

* * *

Her name was Monica Darcy. Her friends called her Manny. My friends—okay, well, me and Jamie—called her Btch. She was popular and air-headed and cruel. She had sandy blonde hair and dark brown eyes. She was your stereotypical Hollister-shopping, Laguna Beach-watching, trash-talking, Junior Varsity Dance Team whore. 

And in freshman year, she chose me as her nemesis.

"Watch out, Harrison," a snide voice called, right after a basketball nailed me in the back of the head. I cringed, but gave no other reaction. I was used to it by now. They'd been pulling crap like this all year.

"Hey, Jude!" someone cackled. "Why don't you get your geek boyfriend to save you?"

"Jamie is _not _my boyfriend," I shot. He wasn't. I loved him to death, but not like that. "He's my best friend."

"Sure," the blonde sidekick smirked. Her name escaped me. Mostly because I just called her Blonde Sidekick. "Of course he is." Her tone was mocking me.

_Ignore it, Jude, ignore it, _I warned myself. Giving them what they wanted _so _was not the way to go. I just turned back around, ignoring their taunts.

It would blow over eventually.

Give me hope.

Flash.

* * *

"You're crazy, Jude-girl," Shay said flatly. He was looking at the shirt in my hands. It was black and slim-fit. In white letters in boasted, "Karma's A Btch".

"You love me for it," I retorted.

"Well…yeah." He blinked his gaze back up to me. "But this is crazy."

"What's crazy?" the red-headed punk known as Melanie asked.

Lizzy, Shay, and I were in Hot Topic, leaning over the counter at the shirts Melanie—the cashier—had set out. I had asked for shirts with the word "btch" on them. I hadn't been expecting such a perfect match.

I gave Melanie the watered down events: there's a girl named Karma, and she was a btch that was set out to kill Shay.

"Buy 'em," Melanie said enthusiastically. "Buy two and I'll throw in a free one. Stick it to the btch! No one hurts Shay."

(We were, uh, frequent customers. Everyone that works here knows the three of us.)

"I'm not wearing one," Shay said.

"Yes, you are," Lizzy, Melanie, and I said in unison.

"Fine," Shay said, relenting. He crossed his arms and looked down at his ratty Converse.

Give me emo.

Flash.

"Cheer up emo kid," Lizzy said, slinging her arms around him.

"Mmmf," he replied.

* * *

I sat in math class, just about ready to cough up a lung. I had been sick for weeks with what the doctor called "a cough". (Which had gotten the reaction of, "WTF? You had to go to med school to tell a coughing kid she has a friggin' cough?") I was now coughing hard enough that I felt like throwing up. 

Jamie was a few rows over from me, and sent me a concerned look. I couldn't respond to it, seeing as I could hardly breathe.

Something hit me in the shoulder. I saw a pen clatter to the floor beside my desk. I turned slightly, looking to the seats behind me, where Monica Darcy and her Chief Man-Skank, Jack Smith, were sitting. "Sorry," Jack sneered. "Allergies."

They both started laughing, and I just slowly turned around in my seat and chanted my mantra in my mind. _Three more years, three more years, three more years…_

* * *

Cue the Charlie's Angels theme. 

Lizzy, Shay, and I strode onto campus, arms linked, each wearing a Karma's A Btch shirt. We were fierce.

In my perfect world, Karma saw the shirts and saw that we were serious, and she left. In my perfect world, everything went back to normal, happy bliss.

In reality, we found Karma and Ty sitting on the fountain, talking and laughing. My blood boiled. (I'm an angry person, okay? And I don't like it when people hurt my friends, the motherfckers.)

Ty looked up when we were standing in front of them. "Hey," he said brightly, as if he hadn't been mercilessly flirting with the most hated woman on earth only seconds before. His smile faded when he noticed the shirts.

Karma gave me a nasty glare like this had all been _my _idea. (Which, technically, it had been—but that's beside the point.) "Classy," she said distastefully.

I smiled in a mockingly cheerful way. "Just like you, darling."

"Um, Shay? Can I talk to you for a second?" Ty didn't wait for an answer before dragging Shay off a few yards away.

I watched them for a few moments as they heatedly whispered back and forth. Shay looked (understandably) upset. Ty's back was to me, but I could tell by the look on Shay's face that he was doing some serious (arse)-covering.

Give me resentment.

Flash.

Now, I'm not a lip-reader, but I've gotten pretty good at reading Shay's expressions. At the moment, he was saying something like "Forget you", followed by a rather vulgar description of _exactly _what Ty could go do with the Skank-Btch.

Sadly, anyone could see that there was more sadness and hurt going into this speech than anger, which kind of ruined the effect. Well. I guess I should say something to Karma now. "Look, btch—"

"Jude, hey," came a slightly winded voice. I glanced over at Tommy, who had just run up to us. Apparently, he had smelled conflict brewing.

Or maybe he just wanted to see me and Karma on the ground, kicking, screaming, and pulling hair. From what I've gathered, that's some demented fantasy that many guys share…yeah.

He put one arm around my shoulders and the other around Lizzy's. "I'm taking them," he said to Karma with a slightly apologetic smile. He steered the two of us just out of Karma's earshot and let go. "What's going on?" he demanded.

I guestured to the words printed across my chest. Tommy shook his head, obviously confused. I raised an eyebrow.

Give me challenging.

Flash.

"I don't get it," he said flatly. "She's been here for less than a week. You can't already hate her. I thought you were better than that, girl."

Give me disappointment.

Flash.

"Oh, please. Do _not _give me that sht," I shot, aggravated. I crossed my arms huffily. "You know me better than that."

"Then what's your problem?" He was getting mad now.

_Great, _I realized, _we're having our first fight. Terrific._

"My problem is—"

"Jude," Lizzy said, snapping my focus in half. She was looking over at the breaking mess that was Tyla…which now consisted of Shay walking towards us with his head down.

"I'll see you, Tommy," I told my boyfriend without looking back at him. Right now, I needed to be there for Shay. I walked toward him, Lizzy in tow.

"I can't handle a class with her right now," he said quietly when we were beside him.

"All right," I replied.

"I'm up for skipping," Lizzy offered, reading my thoughts.

Give me criminal.

Flash.

* * *

"Hey, look, it's Jude the Emo Dke!" someone cackled. 

My face flamed as red as my hair. Jamie muttered, "Just ignore them."

Yeah, well, fat load of good _that _did.

There was a line of popular kids walking behind us on the track in gym class. They were sneering and swearing at us. I shot helpless, pleading looks toward the gym teachers, who were watching with interested expressions.

They refused to do anything. They always did.

Give me betrayal.

Flash.

Tears pricked my eyes as the merciless taunting continued. A few of the monsters behind us even had the nerve to pick up rocks that were scattered on the ground and throw them. I winced as one hit my shoulder hard enough that I knew there would be a bruise.

I refused to let my tears fall. I would not give them the satisfaction. I just stared straight ahead and kept walking.

Give me the so-called "bigger person".

Flash.

Give me my dignity only partially intact.

Flash.

* * *

We skipped our next class. 

That probably isn't something that mature, responsible college students should be doing, but none of us really cared. (And I'd already read the chapter we were going over. Gotta stay on top of things to keep my scholarship, right?)

Now, the three of us were leaning against the brick side of the English building. The small area we found ourselves in was almost like an alley between two buildings. There were about six feet between the two. It was always deserted. It was just what we needed.

Shay was to my right and Lizzy's left. So far, he hadn't said anything. He was just staring down at his white-and-black striped Vans as if the meaning of life had been stamped across them. Lizzy and I stayed silent as we watched him. I think we both knew that it was his place to talk first.

Give me patience.

Flash.

"I didn't tell him," he finally said, not taking his eyes away from his Vans. "About Karma, I mean."

"Why?" My tone was not accusing or demanding. Just a simple, soft question.

"I can't."

"Okay." The breeze blew through the alley, pushing my hair into my eyes. I gently moved it back.

I wouldn't fight with Shay about this today. He didn't need that. I didn't need that. Even if I did think he should tell Ty the truth.

"I'm really good at messing things up, aren't I?" he said with a slightly bitter tone.

I put a hand on his shoulder. "No…no, you're not."

* * *

One day, I walked home from the bus stop and entered my house almost in tears. My eyes were puffy and red, and I could feel my bottom lip trembling. 

Don looked up from the TV when I walked in. "What's your problem?"

Of course he would be home today of all days. I just sniffled and shook my head again.

"Is it that Monica Darcy girl again?"

I looked at him.

Give me confusion.

Flash.

He actually knew about that?

"It is, isn't it?" He was fully turned to face me now and I didn't like his expression. It was mocking. "You're _obsessed _with this girl, Jude. What's your problem? People are going to start thinking that you're _stalking _her."

_Obsessed? _She makes my life hell and I'm _obsessed? _Don had sunk to a new level of low in my book. I ran up the stairs to my room and slammed the door. I crashed onto my bed and let my tears burst through.

* * *

Later, we were all at home, sitting on the couch. Shay's phone vibrated in his back pocket, making all of us jump and yelp. He arched up a bit and pulled the phone out before sitting again. He opened the text message that was flashing on the screen. Nosy, overly-involved friends that Lizzy and I are, we leaned in to read it. 

It was from Ty. "im srry. ): i dont like fighting w/ u. i just dont get y u hate karma so much, thats all. …ily…"

Shay looked at the screen for a few long moments. "…Should I call him or ignore him?" he finally asked.

I don't think I can handle seeing Shay this sad for much longer. But I don't know what to say to make him happy. I looked to Lizzy, Miss Psych Major.

"Call him," she said. "If he's trying to apologize, then you guys can still fix this."

He smiled and then hit in Ty's number. He stood up and walked back to our room. Before the door shut, I heard him say, "Ty? I'm sorry."

Give me anxious.

Flash.

Give me self-blame.

Flash.

Give me needy.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: SO! There's your new chapter. Again...don't kill me. If anything, hit the review button and chew me out for being a flake and not updating in like, three months. Ugh. Love you guys, seriously, and I honestly do feel horrible for not making my lazy butt update sooner. :( 


	15. In Which Jude Pwns Those Btches

A/N: Yay for counting by fives! As in - this is chapter 15, I currently have 205 reviews on this fic, and I also have 9500 hits on it. You guys are AMAZING. Thank you soooo much for reviewing and reading this story. I hope I don't disappoint. :D

Disclaimer: Lyrics in this chapter are from "Good Enough" by Evanescence. It is amazing, and I highly suggest that you go and listen to it. I don't own it, or the IS characters...I just own Tyla, Lizzy, and my plot. ((bored sigh))

Note2: I'm currently listening to "Believe Me, I'm Lying" by Forever the Sickest Kids. They are awesome. (Thanks for the heads up, Tommy'sBbyGurl07!) Check 'em out.

* * *

_Chapter Fifteen  
_"_In Which Jude Pwns Those Btches"_

Things were better in the world of Tyla for a few days. Unfortunately, it didn't last. Shay refused to tell Ty what Karma had done to him, a logic that I don't understand and he won't explain.

I wasn't very pleased with Ty, but I didn't say anything to him because Shay was happy again. Everything was going okay again, slowly but surely. I managed to convince myself that Karma's appearance had bee nothing but a blip on the radar. Our fairytale would be back on track now.

"Hey, Jude, we're going," Shay called from the front room. It was time for work at Morgans' again.

"Comin'," I yelled back. I shut my laptop after saving my work on my latest Tommy pictures. (I only had a few more months to work on them. I was still taking pictures with my stalker-necklace and my camera, when possible.)

I grabbed my shoes and socks and padded out to the car in my bare feet.

* * *

"Sup."

"Uh, right. Sup."

It was the first day of my junior year and I had no classes with Jamie, who, admittedly, was one of my only friends. I was sitting in my third block class, urging the lunch bell to ring, even though it would be another hour until then, and trying to ignore the weird stoner beside me.

Just before the bell rang, a boy with sandy blonde hair and brown eyes walked in. "SPEED!" half the guys in class cheered in unison. The boy, Spiderman (I knew him from when we were friends in eighth grade—he hadn't talked to me since) looked startled for a moment before smiling and nodding as if to say, "Yep, I'm awesome. Deal with it."

He took the last remaining seat…the one in front of me. "Hey," he said. "What's up?"

Fun. He was talking me to the first time in like, two years. I looked at him blankly for a moment before shrugging.

The teacher walked in and he turned around.

* * *

Shay was playing the piano today. That's really probably his best instrument, to be honest. I know that it's one of his favorites. The song he had chosen was "Good Enough"—my favorite Evanescence song.

The piano music floated through the air, slow and sad, wrapping around everyone in the store. When Shay shifted into the lower notes, people began to stop and watched. He added his voice into the mix. _"Under you spell again, I can't say no to you. Crave my heart and it's bleeding in your hand…I can't say no to you. Shouldn't let you torture me so sweetly…now I can't let go of this dream, I can't breathe, but I feel good enough… I feel good enough for you…"_

He had the attention of everyone in the room.

Give me captivated.

Flash.

Give me amazed.

Flash.

Give me breathtakingly sad.

Flash.

The bell above the door chimed, taking me away from the world that the music had whisked me away to. I turned my head slightly, still waking from my trance.

Karma was walking into the store.

* * *

He was cute, that was for sure.

He was funny. He was smart. He played guitar.

I remembered all of this from the time when we had been friends. As I started talking to him more throughout that class period, I realized that he was more or less the same—a little bit older, a little bit more mature, but still the same Spiederman that I had known.

When the lunch bell finally rang, everyone in the class left the room. I walked by myself, my hands shoved in the pockets of my hoodie. I wasn't looking forward to the moment I walked out of the lunch line and into the chaos of the cafeteria. That was always the most humiliating thing—walking out into a place where everyone immediately knew whether or not you were a complete and total social misfit. The fact that I was a misfit went without speaking.

Give me edgy.

Flash.

I paid for my small lunch—a small bag of Doritos and a water bottle—and reluctantly made the step from safe anonymity to spotlighted center-of-attention. I stood there, scanning the cafeteria for an empty table or a lonely new kid. There were none.

I guess I could just eat in the—

"Hey, Jude!"

My head snapped toward the source of the voice—Spiederman, who was smiling and waving me over to a table where he sat with two guys I didn't know. I smiled.

Give me relief.

Flash.

Give me gratitude.

Flash.

I sat down between Spiederman and a boy that was hiding a mess of dark curls under a red trucker hat. He held out his hand and looked at me through his hair. "Hello and welcome to the humble, lunchtime abode of Spiederman's Mind Explosion."

"Spiederman's mind exploded?" I couldn't help but softly tease. "That explains a few things."

The blonde guy seated in front of me grinned. "You picked a good one for once, Speed. Right on."

He introduced himself as Kyle Bateman and the curly-haired boy as Wally Robbins. I told them my name in return.

"Mmmf," Spiederman said after a moment of staring. "You don't look like a Jude." He looked at me again and the corners of my mouth twitched upward without my permission. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers, an excited smile on his face and in his eyes. "I know! From now on, you, Jude Harrison, will be known as Red."

I had to laugh at that.

It wasn't until I left the presence of Spiederman that I noticed how I had felt with him and his crazy friends.

Give me carefree.

Flash.

Give me…happy.

Flash.

* * *

I intercepted Karma before she reached Shay's line of vision. "Why are you here?" I demanded in a harsh whisper, my arms folded tightly across my chest.

"Why else?" Karma fired back in her trademarked Btch Whisper. "Music."

"No," I told her flatly, still keeping my voice low. "Go to the mall branch. Or better yet, go back to where you came from."

"Wow, Jude, how long did it take you to think of that kindergarten insult?"

God, this girl was infuriating.

"Not as long as it took you to stuff your bra," I sneered. Not really in the mood to deal with much more of her, I cut off her response. "Look, skank, you're going to leave now. You're going to turn your little designer-wearing butt around and walk out those doors. You're not going to come back. You're not going to bother Shay anymore. Got it?"

Karma sneered deeper than I'm capable of. It must be a talent acquired through years as Satan's mistress. "I don't get why you like him so much." Her voice wasn't quiet now. I heard Shay fumble over some of his notes. "He's just a heartbreaking, good-for-nothing, _fag!"_

I don't really remember what happened next. It's a bit of an angry blur. All I know is that one moment, I hear the piano completely stop, and the next Karma's screaming, clutching her nose in pain, and my fist really, really hurts.

Give me justified.

Flash.

* * *

Third block quickly became the highlight of each day at school. Spiederman had very quickly become one of my best friends. Wally and Kyle had become the brothers I had always wanted. I loved them all enough that it helped me tune out the things I heard people whisper behind my back. Most of it, anyway.

"Look who decided to ditch the geek," a snide voice taunted as I walked across the courtyard one day. I glanced over at the benches, where Monica Darcy sat, filing her fingernails. "You big enough to go to school on your own now, Jude?"

I chewed on my bottom lip, taking in the girl in front of me. She really wasn't anything special. She wasn't particularly pretty. She definitely wasn't very smart. Why had I been so afraid of her?

"Are you _checking me out_, Harrison?" she said, raising her voice so that everyone could hear. "Ew, I guess you really _are _a lesbian."

Oh. Right. That's why.

My cheeks flamed. My mouth opened slightly. My sarcasm went on vacation to some third world country, leaving me without a reply.

_"There you are!" _Spiederman was suddenly beside me. "Jeez, babe, I've been looking everywhere for you?"

Babe? What?

He winked in a way that Monica Darcy couldn't see. Ah, okay. I'll play along. "You said to meet you here, Speedy," I said innocently. "The benches on the left side, right?"

"Agh, I thought I said the _right _side!" He looked as if he were mentally slapping himself in the face.

Give me an excellent liar.

Flash.

He put his arm around my shoulders and smiled at me. "C'mon, we're gonna be late."

I smiled up at him and walked away from Monica Darcy and her stupid, trash-talking mouth. "Thanks," I said to Spiederman once we were far enough away.

"That's what friends are for," Spiederman shrugged in response.

* * *

Sometimes, silence is the loudest sound. This leads to the most deafening quiet I've ever experienced—the car ride home from work that day. The radio was off and none of us were speaking.

I kept glancing over at Shay, wishing he would say something. He didn't. He kept his pretty blue eyes trained on the road ahead, gnawing at his bottom lip. He refused to acknowledge that I was sitting there, trying to get his attention with pleading looks.

Give me cold shoulder.

Flash.

My knuckles were throbbing. The pain was worth it when I imagined Karma wearing bandages over her smug face for the next few weeks.

Shay being mad at me, however, wasn't. Still, I said nothing. Neither did he.

I gave up on getting him to talk. I turned to my window and rested my head against the cool glass. The flashing lights of passing cars kept me occupied.

Give me distracted.

Flash.

* * *

When Spiederman and I reached Wally and Kyle, the two of them were arguing about whether or not Splenda was evil. Hello random.

A smirk played on my lips as I watched them both argue their points. I found comfort in things like this. Silly arguments over things that really didn't matter were the SME boys' specialty. It was something I could count on to never change.

Finally, Spiederman cleared his throat in an overly-exaggerated manner. Wally and Kyle both stopped and looked over at us.

"Sup, dudes?" Wally asked, now smiling.

"Where were you guys? A storage closet?" Kyle was all smiles now, too, as if they hadn't been about to kill each other over sugar substitutes seconds earlier.

Wait. Storage closet? "Uh, no," I replied, giving Kyle a playful smack on the arm. "More like Speed saved me from Monica Darcy's evil claws."

"Dude, I can't believe I'm related to that btch," Wally groaned.

Give me shock.

Flash.

"…You didn't know that?"

"Uhhh, _no?"_

Wally shrugged. "She's my cousin. My dad's sister's kid. I hate her."

Well. Just…_well. _One of my best friends is related to the Face of All Evil.

…

Eh, whatever. Wally's Wally. "Oh. …Uh, so, what movie are we going to again?"

* * *

By the time we got home, the silence was driving me absolutely crazy. Shay didn't leave me time to say something to him before he walked back to our room and shut the door.

I looked to Lizzy hopelessly.

"He'll be fine," she assured me. "Just talk to him."

She walked down the hall, to her room. She hesitated with her hand on the doorknob and turned to look at me with a grin. "And Jude? That was some pretty kick-(arse) ninja sht you pulled back there. You are _totes _my hero."

Both of us laughed. "Night, Liz."

"Night, Jude."

Now I was left with my room. I walked in and found it already dark. I could see the outline of Shay's sleeping form, lying on the bottom bunk of his bed. I quickly changed clothes and then got into my own bed.

In the silence that lack of movement brings, I could hear Shay's breathing. It wasn't slow and regular. He wasn't sleeping. Might as well try to talk now. Tentatively, I whispered, "Shay?"

For a moment, there was more silence. Then, a sigh. "Mmm?"

"I'm sorry." I sounded like a sad little girl to my own ears—quiet and pleading. "I didn't mean to punch her. She just—I couldn't let her talk about you like that."

He flipped over with a rustling of covers to meet my eyes through the dark. "I'm…not mad," he said softly. "I just…you really shouldn't have…she's gonna come after you next."

Give me concern.

Flash.

Give me touched.

Flash.

"Shayla…I'll be fine. Trust me. She can't touch me." Pause. "I mean, since according to Lizzy, I'm a ninja. And ninjas don't die."

Shay scoffed. "Yeah, well, I wish I was a ninja, then, Your Immortalness."

I giggled softly at this. "Super-fantabulous gay boys don't die either. Don't worry."

He laughed. "Agh, we'll talk immortality in the morning," he moaned after a moment. "I need my beauty sleep, girl."

"You are _so _gay," I teased.

"Love you, too," he replied with a yawn.

Give me friendship.

Flash.

Give me forgiveness.

Flash.

Give me forever.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: So, there's another chapter for y'all. :) Now, I've got a favor to ask - other than the normal reviewing. On my profile, there is a link to a birthday book for Cory Lee, who as you probably know, plays the Non-Evil version of Karma. She has provided a lot of girls with a strong, confident, and talented woman to look up to, and her addition to the cast has really made the show a lot more interesting. Cory is insanely sweet to her fans, and has taken a lot of time to get on-set pictures and things like that to all of us. So if you could spare a few minutes to write out a simple "Happy Birthday, Cory!" it would mean a whole lot. :) 


	16. In Which Tom Quincy is a Boybander Name

A/N: Okay! Here's the new chapter:) I hope you guys like this one. It's a lot lighter than most of the recent chapters have been. A bit of relief. Ha, ha.

Note2: I'm listening to "Revenge is Sweeter (Than You Ever Were)" by the Veronicas. It's a pretty awesome song. Their new record is pretty rad, even though it's crazy different from The Secret Life of...

* * *

_Chapter Sixteen  
_"_In Which Tom Quincy is Such a Boybander Name"_

The first week of February came quickly. According to the weather man, the temperatures would be rising soon. According to the groundhog, we had six more weeks of winter. Guess who was right—the educated meteorologist or the furry little myth?

I wore a hoodie, a long-sleeved shirt, jeans, and knees socks to my date with Tommy. He wore a white t-shirt, jeans, and his leather jacket. It was pretty effing cold. Anyway, let's start back at the beginning of the night.

I walked out of my room, cursing over having dropped my stalker-necklace on Shay's hair straightener. (That straightener is going to mysteriously vanish off the face of the earth when I get home. Oh em eff gee.)

"Hey, baby," Tommy said when I opened the door. He leaned forward and gave me a light kiss on the check. "You ready?"

"Yep," I told him. "Hey…when am I ever going to get to ride on the infamous Quincy-cycle, huh?"

He cringed. "_Don't…_call it that."

"What, not macho enough?" I teased.

"There is _nothing _macho about 'Quincy-cycle'," Tommy informed me, shaking his head.

"Yeah?" I put my hands on my hips and narrowed my eyes up at him. "Well, there's absolutely nothing macho _at all _about the name 'Quincy'."

Tommy made a mock-'oh no she didn't' face.

"Tommy Quincy is like, a _boybander _name!" A smirk was rising in me. "_Little Tommy Q!" _I smiled widely, all teeth showing, at the look on his face.

Give me the straight man's "don't go there girlfriend!"

Flash.

"Hey, can you guys save the foreplay for when I'm not in the room?" Lizzy called from where she was sitting on the couch.

"Can you leave the room so we can have our foreplay?" Tommy questioned back as I said, "Foreplay?"

We blinked at each other before looking back to Lizzy.

"Well, yeah," she replied, shrugging. "Hello? Witty banter _so _qualifies as foreplay."

"Oh, really? Then maybe you should go stop the _Tyla phone sex!" _The last bit was half-yelled for Shay's benefit.

Lizzy burst into giggles. Shay popped out of our room with his cell pressed to his shoulder long enough to flip me off, and then darted back in. Crazy.

"So…" Tommy grabbed my attention again. "Ready?"

I looked over at him, coyly biting my lip and smiling. "Lil Tommy Q, bad-ss Quincy-cycle driver."

"Oh? And what does that say about _you, _girlfriend of the 'bad-ss Quincy-cycle driver'?"

I smirked at him. "What _doesn't _that say about me?"

* * *

"Thank you guys sooooo much," Lizzy gushed on that first day she was in our lives. "I don't know what I'd do without you." 

"No problem," Shay smiled, raising a Red Bull to his mouth. "So, what're you majoring in?"

"Psychology," Lizzy stated. "I have this weird people-pleasing thing. My mom says it would make me a good hooker."

Shay choked on his Red Bull. I whapped him on the back. Lizzy giggled. "Yeah, that's what my dad said. Then he said that I should be a psychologist, cuz then I won't end up working at a whre house like my mom."

Shay and I had a mutual reaction of, "…"

"They're divorced," Lizzy offered as an explanation.

"Because your mom is a _hooker?" _Shay returned, still wide-eyed.

"Nope! Because they can't stand each other." I was amazed at how genuinely cheerful she sounded about this. "They divorced when I was like, four. I mostly lived with my dad, but the whre house is pretty okay, too. Well. For a whre house."

"They let you stay at a whre house?" I asked, eyes undoubtedly popping out of my skull.

"Well, yeah. Darius was pretty cool about it."

"Who's Darius?" Shay looked like he wasn't sure if he wanted the answer to that.

"My mom's pimp."

Again: "…"

"Well, I picked up a _ton _of tricks there," Lizzy continued. After a moment of looking at our disbelieving expressions, she burst, "Not like, hooker-job tricks!"

I blinked at Shay. Well. My college experience had just become quite a bit more…college-like.

* * *

"So, does this mean that I'm back on your good list?" Tommy asked when I detached myself from his lips as the stoplight flickered to green. 

"For now," I replied, smirking.

Give me flirtatious.

Flash.

Give me mischievous.

Flash.

"Good." Tommy pushed his sunglasses back down over his eyes.

"Why?"

"You gonna make me say it?"

"Yep."

"I missed you."

"I _knew it!" _I laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, call the papers," Tommy grumbled, embarrassed. (Which, in turn, made him even more embarrassed because he knew that I could see that faint little blush.)

"I _will_," I grinned. "And I can see the headline now! 'Tom Quincy, Campus Bad Boy of Soft-hearted B—'"

_"Don't say it!"_

_"Boybander!"_

He shook his head slowly. "Dmmit, what did I get myself into?" he moaned.

"You ain't seen nothin' yet, Quincy."

"I'll believe that, Harrison."

I smiled smugly and turned my eyes to the road. We were downtown now, where the food choices ranged from fast food to expensive dining. (And where the people ranged from hobos to college students to prissy trophy-wives and their doting husbands and spoiled children.) The buildings varied between large, graffiti-covered old multi-levels to the tiny, cozy looking restaurants and shops in their shadows.

I loved coming down here. There was something so intriguing about the people and the setting. It was like a movie waiting to be filmed. This was the nicer part of the downtown area—the setting for a romantic comedy or something. (The bad part of the downtown area is around 620…and I believe I've gone into how disgusting that place is.)

Tommy parked his car in a parking lot beside one of the little restaurants. It was an Italian place that Tommy had told me about. He loved it, but between rent on the guys' home (which I had yet to visit) and on 620, normal food, clothes, guitar strings, and tuition, he couldn't ever afford to eat there.

Give me broke.

Flash.

Give me student life.

Flash.

Today, though, he could. He wouldn't explain how other than a smirked, "I have my ways, girl."

We walked into the restaurant hand-in-hand, and I was struck by how far we had come. Literally months ago we'd never spoken. Since, we'd gone from a flirtship to friends to confused couple to stable. I felt like I understood him more now. He wasn't the "bad boy" that everyone else saw.

A waitress seated us in a booth near the back of the small building. I sat down across from Tommy and studied him until he looked up at me. He smiled slightly, his blue eyes shining. He reached across the table with his right hand and grabbed my hand again. He then lowered his gaze to his menu, all the while softly stroking my hand with his thumb.

Give me near-perfection.

Flash.

* * *

"So, any hot guys here?" 

We were all sitting on the couch in the living room now, scrunched together with Shay in the middle. Shay grinned. "No straight ones."

I playfully slapped him on the arm. "What Mr. Ego meant to say is that we haven't really found any yet."

"Well, that Tommy dude was hot," Shay put in off-handedly, still mock-glaring at me for the smack.

"Mmm. Yeah," I agreed. "Pretty eyes."

"Cool hair."

"Muscles."

Both of us looked dreamy by this point, I'm sure. It peaked Lizzy's interest, at least. "Have you guys talked to him?"

"Psh," Shay scoffed as I replied, "Yeah, right."

Lizzy shook her head, disbelieving. "You two need work. Lots of work. I'll have to teach you my skills." She said "skills" like it ended with a 'z'.

"Hooker skills?" Shay asked, innocent and a tad bit hopeful.

It was Lizzy's turn to playfully smack him.

"OW! Dmmit!" he yelped. "Why do I always befriend you abusive, btchy types?!"

This earned him another smack from each of us. He crossed his arms across his chest and exhaled sharply.

Give me pouty.

Flash.

Give me emo.

Flash.

"Aw, get over it, Shay," I laughed, slinging my arms around him. "You know I love you."

He relented and leaned his head against my shoulder. "Yeah, I know." After a moment, he looked over at Lizzy, blinked, and then pulled her into the hug. "C'mon, Lizzy, you're family now."

Lizzy smiled and threw her arms around the two of us. "I like the sound of that."

So did I.

Give me complete.

Flash.

* * *

"You're glowing, big eyes," Tommy teased lightly. "You been drinking radioactive Red Bull again?" 

I kicked him under the table, biting my lip in a failed effort to hold back my smile. "Of course not, Quincy."

"Let me guess then—your insane happiness wouldn't have to do with…" He raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "A certain brunette that's been wearing band-aids over her nose for the past week?"

I mocked his expression.

Give me quizzical.

Flash.

Give me clever.

Flash.

Give me deluded.

Flash.

"Possibleh," I replied matter-of-factly. No use denying.

"So…are you ever going to tell me _why _you punched her?" I could tell from his tone that he was trying hard to be tactful. It was a sweet gesture.

"She called Shay a fag," I stated, stirring the ice in my Coke around with my straw.

Tommy cleared his throat. "Jude, girl, _you _call Shay a fag. …All the time."

I looked up at him sharply. The ice in my glass stilled. "_I _don't mean it as an insult. When _I _say it, I'm kidding around and Shay knows it. When Karma said it, she said it to _hurt _and _humiliate _him in front of all of those people." I took a deep breath. "There's a difference," I finished calmly.

Tommy nodded slowly, his eyes not leaving mine. "Okay." He was quiet for a moment, studying my eyes. "All right. Okay. So…"

"Tom, there really aren't very many more ways to stall a sentence like that. You've gone through the list. What?"

Give me thoughtful.

Flash.

Give me curious.

Flash.

"Look, Jude, I know you've got to have a reason," he said, picking his words carefully. He was still looking me in the eyes.

Give me courage.

Flash.

"So, why? Why do you hate her so much?"

I thought for a moment on how to answer this. I wanted to be honest with Tommy—I loved him, I didn't want to lie to him—but I also didn't want to betray Shay's confidence. It wasn't my story to tell if Shay didn't want it to be told. I finally gave Tommy a reply, though I cringed at the vagueness of it as I spoke. "She really messed up Shay's life," I said slowly. "I…I can't tell you any more."

"Girl, you can tell me anything," Tommy said softly. "You can trust me."

"I know." I smiled weakly and squeezed his hand. "But it's…not my story."

Give me disappointment.

Flash.

Give me understanding.

Flash.

"Okay," he said, nodding. "Okay, I trust you."

* * *

"Um, so where do you want me to sleep?" Lizzy questioned when the three of us were half-dead at nearly four in the morning. 

I yawned widely as I lifted my head from Shay's shoulder. Shay stirred from his half-slumber and sat up a bit. "Wha's goin' on?" he asked sleepily.

"Where's she going to" (yawn) "sleep?" At this point I was so tired that I was seeing things in half vision. That is, because I could barely keep my eyes open.

"I dunno," Shay mumbled, which ended up sounding more like, "Iono."

"Helpful. Um…you can have my bed tonight," I told her, now awake enough to fight against yawning (even if I was losing said fight).

"You sure?"

"Yah…Shay's got two in his…his room."

Lizzy smiled wearily. "Night then," she said, pushing herself off the couch. "See you uh…" She trailed off, blinked, and then walked back to my room as if she'd finished her sentence.

Give me dead tired.

Flash.

Shay and I leaned on each other for support as we staggered back to Shay's room. We were probably the most drunk-looking sober people to ever walk the earth.

I flopped down on the guest bed and for once was dead asleep before my head hit the pillow.

* * *

I kissed Tommy goodbye at the door and walked into the house. "I'm back," I said loudly. Getting no reply, I put my bag and jacket down on the floor silently. 

Give me confusion.

Flash.

Give me loneliness.

Flash.

"Hello? Anyone here?"

No answer. I walked into the living room, eyebrows knit together. This was odd. Very odd.

My eyes scanned the room, and I noticed a piece of notebook paper lying on the couch. I walked over, picked it up, and started reading. _"Hey, Jude, Lizzy went somewhere with Kwest and I'm goin' to the movies with Ty. Hope you ha fun with 'Lord Squinty Frown' (hey, blame Speed for that one). See ya. :) Less than three, Shay._

_PS: It wasn't phone sex. OMFG."_

I laughed slightly. What a dork.

Seeing as this made me feel considerably more safe, I loosened up a bit. No need to be jumping at every moment like some psycho had killed my friends. _Bad thoughts, genius, _my mind nagged me.

Work. That's what I needed. I shuffled into me and Shay's room, trying to convince myself that, no, I ain't scared of no ghost.

I loosened my stalker necklace and connected it to my laptop. I had taken three pictures on the date, and I knew that they would be great shots.

_Ding. "Open folder?" _My laptop questioned. I clicked my affirmative. The files in the folder loaded, and my mouth opened slightly. I leaned forward, staring at the screen in confusion. "What the…?"

_"326 files. Print?"_

No. _Click._

Three twenty-six? Okay, I might have been able to forget taking two or three, but not that many. I blinked at my necklace. "What the mess?" I asked it.

Obviously (and thankfully) I didn't get an answer.

I switched into filmstrip view and scrolled through the pictures. Most of them were of Tommy. A few were of the restaurant. Some were of the inside of Tommy's car. All from the vantage point of my necklace. "You're _broken!" _I realized out loud.

Of _course. _I'd dropped it on Shay's straightener earlier and it broke. Oh, that stupid straightener was going in the trash.

I had to admit as I studied a picture of Tommy's tender smile, though, that it was a very interesting malfunction, and one that could definitely work to my advantage.

Give me pleasant surprise.

Flash.

Give me beautifully disastrous.

Flash.

Give me perfectly imperfect.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: Erk, so, I know that I'm late again. But a few weeks is better than a few months, right? Chapter 17 will be up next week. If I don't post it by next like...Wednesday, then you have rights to spam me with hatemail-PMs to get me to update. Woo. 

Next chapter: Valentine's Day:D


	17. In Which Ty Knows What He's Doin, Thanks

A/N: Haha, I updated pre-Wednesday! ((Giggles and points at the people who went "Sigh. Gah, I wanted to send her hatemail!!!")) All right! Chapter seventeen! Heckz yes! So, here's the big romantic Valentine's Day chapter that benefits for Jommy, Tyla, and—shock—Kwizzy. I hope you guys like this. :D

Note2: I'm listening to "Little Things" by Good Charlotte. It is my new anthem! I saw the video a million years ago (read: over the summer) when I was kind of bored, and I sat straight up and smirked at the line in the beginning: "For any kid that's ever been called a freak—this is for you!" So yeah, definitely check it out. For one, it's an awesome song. And for two I miss those little punks. Not sure who these classy, knocking-up-anorexic-celebrity-dudes are.

* * *

_Chapter Seventeen  
_"_In Which Ty Does Know What He's Doing, Thank You Very Much" _

Valentine's Day.

For the majority of my life, those two words were like swear swords in my mind. It was a day of evil made by the card and candy companies to make single girls feel like trash. This would only be my second Valentine's Day with a boyfriend (and hopefully the first that didn't end badly), so you can see where I would get this cynical point of view.

Give me disbelief.

Flash.

Anyway, for this year, the six of us (hello—the two Golden Trios) had decided to all go out to eat together. Partly because we hadn't hung out all together since New Year's and partly because then if things _did _go badly we would all have emotional support. …No one but me and Lizzy knew about the second one. Oops.

This is why Lizzy, Shay, and I were now sitting around, waiting for the guys to show up. We were all dressed casually, jeans and red t-shirts. Lizzy had red and pink make-up going on. (I'd fled the room before she had thought to turn her make-up powers on me.) Shay's hair held a slight wave to it, as it had for the past few days. (He'd honestly freaked out when he could find his straightener. I feigned innocence, though, and he was none the wiser. But c'mon. The dmn thing broke my camera. It deserved death, not just being stuffed in the back of Lizzy's closet.)

"Where are we going?" Lizzy asked.

I looked at her blankly. "You're the one that planned all of this. Why don't you know?"

Lizzy shrugged. "Ty said he had someplace classy in mind."

Shay let out a snicker, pausing from trying to flatten his hair with his hand. Both of us looked at him. "Ty doesn't know the difference between gourmet Italian food and Papa John's," he informed us, smirking and shaking his head. "We're gonna end up at Taco Bell, just watch."

For a moment, Lizzy looked mildly horrified at the idea of spending Valentine's Day at our town's roach-infested Taco Bell. (I'm sure I didn't look too thrilled either.)

Shay laughed openly at our expressions. "Oh, don't worry. It's Valentine's Day. I'm sure he'll pick something nice."

The two of us visibly relaxed.

"…Like Pizza Hut. Or Arby's."

I chucked one of the couch pillows at him. He got beamed in the face, which didn't stop his laughing. "Ugh! Jerkface!" I couldn't help but smile, though. It was good to see him this happy. "If he takes us to a fast food place, I'm blaming _you_, Shay Morgans!"

He calmed down and smirked at me. "Hey, you can't hold me responsible for my boyfriend's actions. It's so beyond not my fault that Lizzy trusted him with a decision like this…"

_Bang. Bang. Bang. _"Hello? Valentine's Day!" Speak of the devil. Ty's voice, slightly muffled, came through the door.

"Let's see how classy," Shay whispered, still snickering softly.

Give me mischievous.

Flash.

* * *

I was sitting at my desk in English when someone randomly came up and put their warm hands lightly over my eyes. "Guess who?"

"Hmm," I said in a mock-thoughtful tone. "Johnny Depp?"

Spiederman scoffed and lifted his hands. I looked up, smirking playfully. "Oh, dmn," I continued. "No luck."

Spiederman sighed dramatically. "Fine. If you don't want to love your boyfriend on Valentine's Day…"

"Shut up, dork," I laughed. "You know I do."

He leaned down and kissed me lightly. Then he sat down in his desk, playing the 'Oh no, of course I didn't just break the No-PDA Rule' card as our English teacher walked in.

Give me sneaky.

Flash.

Give me deceiving.

Flash.

"Okay, take out your Romeo and Juliet books," the teacher said, sounding just as fed up with this play as we were. (As lovely as it was the first and even second time around, after reading through it nearly twenty times in the span of three weeks, the romance was sucked out of it.)

I turned out the audio book for the play, which my teacher had turned on, and lost myself in thought.

Romeo and Juliet had always been such a romantic story to me. Growing up, you heard the story everywhere: boys loves girl, girl loves boy, their families hate each other, and then boy dies for girl and girl dies because she can't live without him.

But then I read through the actual play, and my opinion changed. Romeo and Juliet had barely known each other for a week before they had gotten married, done the nasty, and died. It just wasn't so romantic when I knew that more lust went into it than love.

Oh, and Romeo's also an idiot. Everyone knows that you don't kill you new bride's cousin until two days after you've been married. Stupid boy.

Give me cynical.

Flash.

I guess that some things were just better from a distance.

* * *

Ty, Kwest, and Tommy had come over in a five-seat car. Seeing as there were six of us, and we were all going together, this left the smallest of us crammed in the back seat. (The smallest being Lizzy, Shay, Ty, and I.) Kwest rode shotgun and Tommy, obviously, drove.

I sat in the middle. Ty and Shay sat to my left and Lizzy to my right.

About five minutes down the road, Ty pulled Shay onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around Shay's waist and rested his chin on Shay's shoulder. Shay smiled softly and tilted his head to rest on Ty's.

Give me loving.

Flash.

Give me tender.

Flash.

Give me sweet.

Flash.

Lizzy nudged me, smiling widely toward the pair. Like I hadn't noticed. I smiled back, and then looked back over at them. Ty now had his head buried in Shay's neck. Shay glanced over at me without moving and gave me a grin. Then he closed his eyes and snuggled further into Ty.

* * *

At lunch, Kyle was gone and Wally was oddly quiet. I brushed it off as him not getting sleep, or caffeine, or something. That's just how Wally got sometimes.

Spiederman sat down after a few minutes and placed a white teddy bear in front of my lunch tray. "Happy V-day, baby," he said.

"Thanks, Speed," I replied, smiling at how sweet this was of him. "Hey, are we still on for tonight?"

"Yeah, yeah, totally," Spiederman replied.

We chatted happily for several minutes, and then Spiederman got up, offering the explanation that he needed to get his math homework from his locker.

"Hey…Jude?" Wally said slowly. I turned my gaze from Spiederman's retreating back and to meet Wally's eyes. "Look…I've gotta talk to you."

"Okay?"

"Um…you know how Monica's been staying at my house?" His eyes were sad under his trucker hat. (Which he wasn't technically supposed to be wearing at school, but the teachers were unable to remove it from his head.)

"Yeah, you've only been griping about it for weeks," I answered. It was true. Monica had been staying with Wally for the past month because her dad had been on business trip after business trip or whatever.

Give me sob story.

Flash.

Give me a break.

Flash.

"And, uh, you know how my parents were gone over the long weekend?"

"Yeah…?"

"Um, well, Jude…I, uh…" He trailed off, looking like he was trying to figure out how to tell me whatever it was he needed to tell me. "Look, don't kill anyone, okay?" he finally said.

Give me surprise.

Flash.

I laughed. "Why? Wally, what's going on?"

He hurried the words out. "I came home from work and I heard noises, so I went to see what was going on, and Monica was in the guest room…with Speed."

I stared at him for a moment. My mind wouldn't process what he'd said. "What…what do you mean?"

Wally groaned, not so much at me, but at having to further explain, I'm guessing. "Jude. They were…they were screwing, okay? Speed's cheating on you." He looked at me meekly for a moment before quickly adding, "I'm not supposed to say anything about it, but…I thought you should know."

I bit down hard on my lip. I finally grasped what he was saying. I looked at the teddy bear in my hands with no emotion on my face. I stood up quickly, throwing the bear down on the dirty cafeteria floor, and ran out of the room, into the bathroom across the hall.

I locked myself into one of the clean stalls and buried my head in my hands.

Give me betrayal.

Flash.

* * *

McAllister's. Ty's view of classy was _McAllister's. _Oh, man, Shay's going down. (Though, admittedly, McAllister's was much better than Taco Bell.)

Lizzy and I shared a look of distaste as we climbed out of the car. "He's dead," Lizzy whispered.

"Agreed," I responded.

Shay stuck his tongue out at us from the other side of the car. "Heard that," he said.

"Don't care," we chimed back.

Tommy locked the car and walked around to me. He slung an arm around my shoulders and kissed the top of my head. "Don't worry, Ty knows what he's doing."

"I'll believe it when I see it," I told him.

"Oh, trust me—you'll believe it in a few seconds," Tommy replied, eyebrows raised.

Yeah, right.

Ty, who was in the lead of our group, stopped and turned around when he reached the doors. "Okay, so, I know that _some _of you have no belief in me, but I'm pretty sure I _have _done a good job with this," he said, pointedly looking at Lizzy and I. "You might've noticed that there is no one here. This is because we pulled some strings and got it so that we pretty much rented the place. So. Inside…"

He looked oddly excited, and was toying with the chain around his neck. (Which held his promise ring, the other half to Shay's.)

"Okay, okay," Lizzy said. "For your sake, I hope this is good, Ty…" She was kidding. Mostly.

Ty opened the door with a smirk and a few words: "Just watch, ye of little faith."

"Oh…" Shay started, looking inside.

"My…" I continued, eyes widening.

"_God!" _Lizzy shrieked.

Give me shock.

Flash.

* * *

I really love that it's so easy to throw me aside like I mean nothing. Maybe I don't. Maybe I'm not worth the trouble of being decent to. Maybe I don't deserve a good thing.

Give me heartbroken.

Flash.

I sat in my English class after lunch, my eyes red and my heart numb. I didn't know how I was going to face Spiederman again, but I knew I would have to. I had no choice.

"Hey, dude, what's wrong?"

Suddenly he was standing in front of my desk, wearing a concerned expression. I looked up at him through puffy, streaming eyes, and something inside of me snapped. "Out of all the people," I said levelly. "You had to cheat on me with _her._"

He knew how much I hated her. He knew what she'd done to me. He knew that he was one of the only people I trusted. He knew it all, and he _still _did this.

"What're you talking about?" His voice sounded calm, but I saw a tell-tale sign in his eyes.

Give me panic.

Flash.

"Don't play stupid," I shot, standing up. Spiederman took a step back. "You were fcking Monica Darcy over the weekend. Is _that _why you cancelled our date, Speed?"

"You're paranoid," Spiederman said. People were watching now. I could see them whispering to each other about it. "I cancelled on you because I was sick!"

_"Then why did Wally see you at his house, banging that slut?" _I screamed, fury bursting forward.

Spiederman's mouth opened slightly. "He _told _you?"

"YES, YOU DUMB SHT, HE TOLD ME!" I was shaking with anger. "WHY WOULDN'T HE?"

He took another step back. "Jude, it seriously wasn't what you think it was…"

I grabbed my text book, feeling the weight of it. Yeah, this would work just fine. "How long have you been cheating on me?"

"I _wasn't—"_

"Wrong answer." I threw the book. Lucky for him, it missed. "You're full of _sht!"_

The teacher finally caught on to what was happening and came into the classroom, then dragging me out of it. "Office. Now."

Give me unjust.

Flash.

* * *

There were red table cloths over each of the tables. On top of them sat glowing candles in different shades of white and pink.

Red curtains had been put up over the windows, giving the place a dreamy feel. All over, it was an amazing job. "You…did all of this?" I slowly asked Ty, the first of us to recover from shock.

Ty scratched the back of his head as he sheepishly replied, "My sister helped…"

"Hey, Shay?" Lizzy said, eyes still wide.

"Hmmm?" was all Shay could respond with.

"I think I might have to borrow your boyfriend sometime."

"Not a chance."

Lizzy sighed. "Fair enough. But Ty?"

"Eh?"

"_You are fantabulous!" _Lizzy squealed. She hugged him quickly, beaming. She then grabbed Kwest by the arm and drug him toward a booth. Once at this booth, she turned around and waved toward the remaining four of us. "Well, c'mon. We said we were all gonna be together today, right?"

* * *

I sat in a stiff chair in front of the principal's office. The room itself was stiff and cold, as if designed to make its occupants uncomfortable.

The walls were a white color that one usually associates with a mental asylum. The carpet was a boring, ugly mix of grey, blue, red, and purple. The three chairs were metal with flat backs. A clock was ticking loudly enough that I'm amazed a bomb squad hadn't been brought in yet.

Just from taking one look at the secretary, you could see that she was one of those people who refused to come to terms with the fact that she was rapidly aging. She was a middle-aged woman with an obviously frequently dyed blonde ponytail situated high on the back of her skull. She wore an Abercrombie t-shirt. She was smacking on gum—original flavor Bubbleyum, judging by the wrapper on the desk.

Yet none of this seemed to make up for the cheaply done botox in her face that made it look like someone had grabbed her skin and yanked it backwards hard enough to strangle her.

Give me observant.

Flash.

Give me over-analyzing.

Flash.

Maybe I was reading into it too much. Maybe I was getting revenge on the fact that she wouldn't look at me by noticing everything about her. Maybe I was just distracting myself to keep from shaking with still-raw fury.

"Jude?" The principal was standing in the doorway to his office, wearing his token disappointed expression. "You can come in now."

Or maybe I just have a habit of seeing the worst in people.

* * *

The six of us ended up piling into one of the roomy booths. On one side sat Ty, Lizzy, and Kwest. On the other was Shay, me, and Tommy. Ty and Shay were sitting closest to the wall.

I leaned back and let my head rest on Tommy's shoulder. He smiled down at me and adjusted his position so that his arm was around my shoulders, pulling me closer. I looked up at him through my bangs and opened my mouth to say—

Kick. Someone's foot hit mine under the table. I closed my mouth and blinked at the three across the table. Ty was grinning at Shay as Shay ranted about…well, I'm not sure what exactly he was going on about. With him it's hard to tell sometimes. Lizzy was excitedly babbling about her psychology class, and Kwest looked very interested. None of them looked guilty.

Eh, whatever. Accident.

Give me random.

Flash.

"What's wrong?" Tommy asked, snapping me out of it.

"Nothing," I replied. "It's just—"

Kick. Okay, seriously, what the mess. I sat up more, staring incredulously across the table.

Jeez, I'm a freak. Whatever. Someone's just being clumsy.

"Jude?"

"It's nothing," I told Tommy. "Just—" Kick. "_Okay, who is playing footsie?"_

Ty and Shay both deadpanned, Shay stopping mid-word. Still facing me, both moved their eyes to meet each other's and smirked in unison.

"Sorry," Ty grinned. "Bad aim."

Give me dorky.

Flash.

Give me giggly.

Flash.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, rolling my eyes and smiling slightly. "Should've known."

"Well, if you're gonna make us sit across from each other, then yeah," Shay said, feigning annoyance.

I put a hand in his hair and ruffled it. He didn't even bother to swat my hand away, just scrunched his nose up at me when I was done. I did the same back at him. Both of us held the expression.

Give me silly.

Flash.

Give me normal.

Flash.

Shay dropped the expression first. "Gah, you always win."

"I know," I smirked. "I had a sister—hello, practice."

"No fair! But I'll beat you one day, Jude-girl, mark my words!" He finished with a dramatic flourish to his tone.

"Consider them marked," I teased back.

"Hey—competition twins," Kwest said, grabbing our attention. "You gonna order?"

* * *

When we got back to our house, everyone but Tommy and I said goodbye and went separate ways. Meaning Kwest and Ty had been gentleman-like and walked up to the door with Shay and Lizzy and were now honking the horn to get Tom to hurry up.

"Happy Valentine's, girl," Tommy said, ignoring the honking.

"Thanks to you," I replied.

He smirked slightly. He took my hand in his and gently lifted it to his lips. After a brief moment of contact, he let go and took a few steps back. "No," he said, smiling softly, "because of you."

He turned and without another word, relented to the horn-honking and returned to his car. I stood on the porch and watched until the car was out of sight, and then walked inside the house.

"That was—" I started.

"—The _best _Valentine's Day—" Lizzy cut me off, plopping down on the couch with a content grin.

_"Ever," _Shay finished, walking out from our room.

"Y'know, I always hated Valentine's," I told them. "But this one makes me think that maybe it'll be a good day from now on."

"Yeah? Well, that's cuz it will be," Shay said matter-of-factly. "Cuz now you have us and a non-scumbag boyfriend." He paused for a moment. "Er…no offense to the current Spiederman."

"Nice," I laughed.

He was right, though. This day was a lot better than most.

Give me surprised.

Flash.

Give me redeemed.

Flash.

Give me loved.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: Ack. I just reread that after a few months and realized how cutesy it was. xD Major stalkerazzi action next chapter! If you liked this chapter, or if you didn't, just click the review button and drop me a comment. :) Thanks for reading:D 


	18. In Which Stalking is an Understatement

**A/N: **Hi, I'm going to pretend that I don't deserve to have daggers thrown at me for taking another two months to post. -shame- I think we should stick with that "Send me mean messages if I don't update by next week" thing, because that worked...Boo. Anyway, here is the chapter.

**Disclaimer: **Lyrics used in this chapter are from "Predictable" by Good Charlotte, "Hate (I Really Don't Like You)" by Plain White T's, and "Before He Cheats" by Carrie Underwood.

**Note2: **I'm listening to the clip of "9 in the Afternoon" by Panic(!!!!!!) at the Disco. On repeat. Which is horribly pathetic because it's only 30 seconds. But I luffs it.

* * *

_Chapter Eighteen  
_"_In Which 'Stalker' is an Understatement"_

"You sure you're up for this, Jude-girl?" Shay asked as he parked the car in front of the mangy apartment building that held 620. "You can still back out if you want, y'know…"

I sat there for a moment, weighing the pros and cons.

On one hand, this insane plan would get me some new shots with my actual _camera,_ not just the stalker-necklace. On the other hand, it would be rather difficult to BS my way out of this if I get caught.

Give me indecisive.

Flash.

Give me risky.

Flash.

"Yeah…I'm sure," I finally sighed. "Yeah, let's go."

Shay grinned widely and then leaned over his seat to look at Lizzy. "Ready, fellow decoy?"

Lizzy's face lit up with an excited smile. "So beyond more than ready. Operation Stalkarazzi is now in _motion!"_

The three of us stepped out of the car, shutting our doors behind us. Shay put two fingers to his forehead and saluted. "Good luck, Agent Bristow."

I rolled my eyes at him, smiling reluctantly. Nerves were bubbling in my stomach rapidly enough that I felt like I would be sick. "Does that make you two Nadia and Rachel?"

"If I get that fine piece of (arse) known as Sark? Hell yeah," Shay said without hesitation, as if he'd known I would say that. Sometimes his borderline psychic-ness really amazed me.

"Yeah, sure," I agreed. "See you in a few minutes…"

As we split up—Shay and Lizzy to the front door; me and my camera to the fire escape—Shay called, "See you on the other side!"

* * *

I got suspended for a day. It felt like I'd gotten off easy, seeing as I had attempted to cause Spiederman permanent damage, but you get what you get.

The next day was a Wednesday, and I slept in until nearly ten. Well, technically, I lied in bed, half-awake from six-thirty-ish until ten. I guess my mind doesn't like the idea of change and therefore refuses to let me sleep like a normal person. I was so used to going through the motions that it took effort to keep myself in bed.

I finally got up when I knew that mom and Don were gone to work. Or wherever they went. Sometimes I didn't believe that they went anywhere that didn't involve alcohol or sex.

Give me brutal honesty.

Flash.

Now, what to do with myself for a whole five extra hours?

The prospect of de-boyfrienditizing my life seemed to be the most recurring thought.

Give me malice.

Flash.

* * *

There were a few windows near the balcony at the side of 620. They were small and grimy, something that I normally would not go anywhere near. According to Shay, though, the guys kept the windows open due to lack of working air-conditioning. In the non-snowy seasons, at least. And he also knew that Tommy would be here mixing some of SME's new tracks.

As stated before: Shay knows everything about everyone. You cannot hide from his all-knowing eyes. I'm beginning to think he can actually read minds.

Anyway, the point is that if I can manage to take pictures from the windows without Tommy catching on, I'll have some interesting shots that aren't close ups. Which I definitely don't have enough of, thanks to this pesky little emotion called love. It really interferes with flat-out stalking, sadly.

Give me sarcasm.

Flash.

Shay and Lizzy were to distract Tommy long enough for me to get there, get some good shots, and get out. The plan was idiot-proof.

…Except for the fact that Shay had apparently misjudged the distance between the windows and the balcony…a gap that stretched nearly five feet. Which is possible, I guess, but a little more than difficult for someone that is six stories up with nothing but a camera.

My only thought as I draped the lanyard holding my camera around my neck, eyeing the distance between the steps and the window ledge, was, _Wow. I'm really desperate, aren't I?_

Give me need.

Flash.

Give me desperation.

Flash.

Give me a ladder. Please?

Flash.

* * *

E-mails, notes, and any other sort of written communication were first to go. After sifting through all the fake "I love you"s in my inbox, I switched to the more difficult task—all the notes that I'd saved.

They were in an old Sketchers shoe box, under my bed. I'd been storing meaningful things in this box since the sixth grade, and lately it had been hard to close because of the massive income of notes from English.

My vow to not open the folded notes was broken by the first one I touched. The cover of the note read "To Dude" in Spiederman's messy handwriting.

This inside of the note switched between Spiederman's scrawl and my dainty cursive.

"Hey, dude. What're u doing this weekend?? _idk, probably just avoiding Don. Why? _Movies? _Which one? _Red eye? _Sounds cool. :-) Sunday? _Took the word from my mouth, dude. _Jeez, nice save. _I do what I can. _Speed, the teacher just walked right past you—and you still managed to gimme this. _The yawn/stretch works for more than the movies, red. _Sneaky. Haha, you know that's one of the things I love about you? _I couldn't write down all the things I love about you."

The ink blurred and expanded on the last words. A tear had fallen from my eye and onto the paper. This was harder than I thought it would be.

Especially when I thought of how he never intended to go to the movie with me. All the while he knew where he'd be. Sleeping with the enemy.

I gently put the note back in the box and shoved the box back under my bed. I couldn't deal with this. Not so soon. E-mails, text messages—fine. But I couldn't look at those notes, at his _handwriting, _and not hurt. I couldn't look at something that real (and yet, so fake in such a twisted way) and just throw it away like it was nothing.

Give me attachment.

Flash.

Give me crushed.

Flash.

* * *

I was propped up to the window ledge with my elbows, leaning all of my weight on them to keep me upright. The stairs were beneath me. If Tommy looked my way, I had two choices: hang there and be discovered or fall down and possibly break my leg.

A broken leg was preferable. Bring on the ambulance.

Give me stubborn.

Flash.

Give me flat-out stupidity.

Flash.

I managed to lift my camera to my eyes with a little effort. (Okay, honestly, a _lot _of effort.) I peered in through the open window, trying not to breathe too loud at the strain.

Inside, Shay and Lizzy were talking animatedly. Shay was talking with his hands, making wide motions in a way that was both distracting and not suspicious. Tommy was listening and nodding, a slightly confused smile on his face. (I have a feeling that Tommy thinks Shay's a tad insane. It doesn't really bother me, though, because I'm pretty sure that Shay is _more _than a tad insane.

Give me honest.

Flash.)

I zoomed in until it was only Tommy in the shot, with his confused smile and arched brow. _Flash. _There's one. (My arms were crying out in pain now, and it was taking all of my willpower not to do the same. Or, y'know, just fall.)

_Just a few more shots, _I told myself in the most encouraging tone I could think of. _Then you can get down and get some ice for this…_

Give me sore.

Flash.

* * *

I went downstairs, hoping that maybe making lunch would calm my nerves and pull my confidence back up. Then I could go back upstairs and deal with that box. (It had already been opening, after all. Might as well finishing ripping off the band-aid…)

I grabbed a pot from under the stove and a box of good old Kraft Mac'n'Cheese from the cabinet. I sat them both down on the counter. _Right. Now I need boiling hot water. Like what I want to dump in that idiot's lap. That'd teach him._

I wore a slight smirk as I walked over to the sink with the pot, hitting the on button on the radio on the way. While I turned on the tap water, filling the pot, the mainstream radio station blared, _"Sad excuses and false hopes high/I saw this coming/Still I don't know why I let you in/I knew it all along/You're so predictable/I knew something would go wrong/So you don't have to call/You're so—"_

I smacked the radio to the next preset station with my free hand. This was the FUSE-esque radio station, which played mostly rock/punk-rock music. _"All I wanted was your love, love, love-love-love-love/Hate is a strong word, but I really-really-really-really don't like you/Now that it's over, I don't even know what I liked about you/I brought you around, and you just brought me down/Hate is a strong word, but I really, really, really don't like you!"_

Irritated, I hit it to the last preset—a country station. Yeah, okay. Country…that'll be safe, right? No songs about hating people or cheating…

A twangy, typical country song started playing, with a woman's smooth vocals over-taking the beat. _Finally…_

The pan was full enough now. I turned the water off and steadily started moving back toward the counter.

The chorus of the song burst forward. _"I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four wheel drive/Carved my name into his leather seats/I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights/Slashed a hole in all four tires/Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats!"_

I nearly dropped the pan out of pure frustration. Where were the happy, poppy songs about lip gloss or other obnoxious topics? Where were the dance-y songs with no visible meaning? Where were the songs so full of screamo that you couldn't understand what was being said? What's the deal with all of these bitter cheating songs?!

Give me conspiracy.

Flash.

I put the pot down, and water sloshed over the edge, onto the counter top. I hit the power button on the radio in a highly-annoyed manner.

I finished fixing my macaroni in brooding silence.

* * *

After six shots and several almost-catches, I decided I'd had enough. Anyway, Tommy was beginning to suggest the idea of going and looking for me, which was _not _a good thing in the present situation. And my arms were shaking from some pretty intense muscle fatigue.

Now, the only problem was getting down.

_Easy, _you might think. _Just drop down._

That's easy to think when you're not hanging several feet up from the only available surface. (Yeah, don't ask how I got up here in the first place. I'm not exactly sure.)

Another suggestion might be to just slowly lower myself down and then drop the last foot or so. This would be a brilliant idea if I were not being supported by my elbows. Moving them would not be a wise decision.

Give me stuck.

Flash.

Give me really screwed over.

Flash.

I looked back inside just in time to catch Shay's glance. I waved my arm as frantically as my current predicament would allow, praying that he caught the hint.

I almost passed out with relief when Shay turned back to Tommy and said, "I'm gonna go see what's taking her so long…uh, Lizzy, didn't you want to see how the soundboard works?"

Lizzy nodded and smiled at Tommy. "Yeah, I thought it would be totes cool…show me?"

And then Shay vanished from the room while Lizzy led Tommy out of sight of the window.

Give me well-planned.

Flash.

* * *

Shay's voice, lowered to a whisper, caught me by surprise. "Jude-girl, you're the only person that would be able to manage this…"

Give me repressed laughter.

Flash.

I turned my head just enough to be able to see him standing there, shaking his head. "I'm stuck," I whispered down to him.

"I noticed," he replied. After a moment of squinting at the distance between me and him, he slowly said, "Okay—okay, just let go, girl, I'll catch you."

I blinked at him, skinny little twig Shay, and laughed slightly. "You're not serious," I whispered.

He crossed his arms. "You don't trust me?" he questioned defensively.

I let out a frustrated noise. "_Shay," _I hissed. "Trust-games are for when you're standing in front of someone—not when you're dropping six feet toward someone half you size!"

"Jude, I can do it," Shay protested, looking rather put-out.

"I—gah!" My arms gave out on me and I fell with a shriek. For a moment, it was like time had slowed. Air was pushing up under me. …And then I hit something solid, and my sense of hearing took over.

"Oof!"

_Thunk._

_Thud._

I groaned and quickly moved off of Shay. None of my bones felt broken, but I was so going to be bruised later. I turned to Shay.

He had his hands pressed to the back of his head, and his face was scrunched up in pain. "Shay—you okay?"

Give me frantic.

Flash.

Give me worried.

Flash.

"Yeah," he mumbled, opening one eye slightly.

"What happened?" I wasn't whispering anymore.

"You fell," he stated, opening both eyes. "And I caught you." He smirked weakly at this before cringing again. "And then I hit my head on the bar."

Guilt flooded through me. Poor Shay. I stood up shakily and leaned over so that I could see the rising bump on the back of his head. _"Sht, _Shay," I breathed. "C'mon, we're going home. We both need ice…"

For once, he didn't argue back. "Mmkay," he muttered, standing up. He again pressed a hand over his head. "Uh…maybe you should drive…"

"Er…I think Lizzy's the best pick for driver right now," I said with a slight laugh, thinking of my still-shaking arms.

"Yeah…you're probably right," he responded, also laughing. This made me feel a lot better…if he was laughing, then he was fine. _Calm down, _my mind soothed me. My heart was still beating fast, but it was slowing down some. I just don't know what I would've done if Shay had gotten hurt worse than this.

Give me near-hysteria.

Flash.

* * *

I texted Lizzy from the car, and apparently she BS'd her way out of there with ease, because she was in the driver's seat within a few minutes.

Shay was lying down in the backseat, asleep. (I know you're not supposed to let someone sleep after banging their head like that, but the knot on his head wasn't big enough to merit need for concussion-mode, in my opinion.) I filled Lizzy in while we drove, and she found the whole thing to be hysterical.

Give me predictable.

Flash.

* * *

I wasn't able to look at that box of notes again until the day I started unpacking my apartment.

I threw it in the trash without sparing it a second thought.

I had bigger things to deal with.

* * *

That night, Shay and I became masters of multitasking.

We lied on the couch, smushed together with my head near his feet and vice versa.

We held ice packs onto our sore heads/muscles.

We gulped down painkillers.

We watched some of the first season of _Alias._

We fawned over David Anders and Michael Vartan.

And, above all, we were both giggled at by Lizzy, who found all of this amusing somehow.

Masters of multitasking for sure.

"So…" Lizzy said after she'd tired of giggling. "Does this mean that our mission was a success or what?"

Shay and I blinked at each other. I looked over to Lizzy and grinned. "Yeah…Operation Stalkarazzi was a success."

She cheered.

Give me excited.

Flash.

Give me accomplished.

Flash.

Give me successful.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: All right! So, next chapter is going to be fun…it's not from Jude's POV, ha, so there's a change. Anyone who can guess who it might be based on the following quote gets a dedication next chapter, heh.

Hint: "Point is, now I'm all Pop-tart and no soda, and that, my friend, is not a good thing to be."

ALSO. You Instant Star fans, you! You might have heard that IS is being cancelled after the fourth season! DLS has created a super-petition to try and save our show! If you love Instant Star, Alexz, Tim, Cory, Tyler, and the rest - go and sign! Spread the word and Save Instant Star! Links in my profile. :)


	19. In Which Ty Really Screws Things Up

**A/N:** Oh, boo, nobody guessed it. :( Oh well. It's Ty. :) I hope you guys like this one. I'm re-writing the next few chapters of this because in the original posting on DLS I screwed up and did something stupid, and so I'm undoing it here. :D

**Note2: **I'm listening to "Me and You and My Medication" by Boys Like Girls. I love this band. Most of you have probably heard of them by now…but go buy their CD. They're one of the best pop-punk bands I've heard in a while.

_Chapter Nineteen  
_"_In Which Ty Really Screws Things Up"_

Humans are strange creatures, man.

I mean, seriously—we lie, we cheat, we keep secrets, we hurt people—and then when people do the same to us, we automatically hate them. Or at least really, really, really, really don't like them. And on the off-chance that people forgive each other, there's always that voice in the back of their head nagging at them about how, "She said…he did…"

We're just…weird.

That really has nothing to do with anything…I just thought I'd throw it out there, give myself something to think about. I'm kind of random like that.

As Shay would say:

Give me random.

Flash.

…All right, that wasn't too clever. Eh, cut me some slack, I'll get used to it.

The day is Wednesday, March 26, 2008, and when I woke up, I found myself thinking, for no reason: _Today is the day…_

The day for what? I don't know. My morning-thoughts only go so far.

I grabbed a Strawberry Pop-tart and a Dr. Pepper from the kitchen at eight in the morning, making as much noise as possible. (Let me say this: I hate early classes. I especially hate them when they're _supposed _to be afternoon classes and then the teacher switches the friggin' times two weeks after class starts…and if Tom and Kwest are gonna screw with me about it, then they're getting up early, too.)

Give me payback.

Flash.

Tom walked out of his room, grumbling about loud noises and unneeded wake-up calls. I barely looked up at him. This was all routine. Kwest would be walking out in a few minutes, just like every other Wednesday. And Monday. And Friday. (Stupid class.)

Tom snatched my Dr. Pepper from my hands, offering a smile that said: "I pay more of the rent, so you can go sodaless, vermin."

Okay, maybe not the vermin part. But you get what I'm saying, right? Right, thought so.

Point is, now I'm all Pop-tart and no soda, and that, my friend, is not a good thing to be.

* * *

I'm always gone from the first week or two after the end of school until about a week before school starts. I stay with my older sister, Isabella "Call Me Anything But Bella and I Will Kill You Dead, _Tyler_" Robinson.

Give me charming.

Flash.

So, the thing is, I missed all of the Soap Opera From Hell crap that happened here over the summer. The whole Tom/Kwest/Portia showdown, and the arrival of the freshmen, I mean.

My first day of my junior year was…eventful because of this complete blindness to the summer. I guess I should start with me walking down the steps to get to class.

Well…walking might mean sprinting. But only because I was about to be late and the teacher already hated me from last year. Go figure.

So, I'm running down the steps, somehow miraculously not tripping and—oh, sht, spoke too soon. I tripped over my own feet and went sprawling down the steps, flipping like one of those gymnastics people. All the while I'm thinking, _God, I'm an idiot._

Give me clumsy.

Flash.

Give me predictable.

Flash.

"Agh!" My rapid snowballing was cut short when I slammed into someone. My momentum knocked both of us to the ground. The position we landed in was, uh, awkward, to say the least.

I was pretty much straddling him, and my hands had come down beside his shoulders. I didn't move. The two of us were just staring at each other, a bit dazed. (That's kind of what rolling down the stairs and smacking into someone does to you, dude. Note to self: Don't do that again. It kind of hurts.)

He was about my size, maybe a few inches shorter. He looked younger—probably a freshman, because I _know _I would've noticed him if he'd been here before. He had pale skin that looked like a porcelain doll's. (Shut up, it's Bella's fault I know what that is.) His hair was black and insanely straight. His eyes were the most incredible shade of blue I've ever seen.

_Well, I'm straddling the kid; might as well say something, _I thought in a dazed way. I couldn't look away from him, and really didn't have any desire to move. "Hi," I said warmly. The insanity of this whole deal sunk in, and I couldn't help but smirk. "I'm Ty."

"Uh…hi," he said, blue eyes still trained on my brown ones. "I'm Shay."

"Come here often?" I asked lightly.

"Not in this position," Shay replied, tone just as light. His eyes were twinkling slightly.

"Yeah…sorry about that." Embarrassment kicked in as my mind yelled, _He's probably straight, jackss, get off!_ I moved, ending up sitting on his legs for a few seconds before I pushed myself to my feet. I offered Shay a hand.

He looked up at me blankly for a few seconds before smiling and taking my hand. (His hand was cold. He'd probably been holding the Red Bull can on the floor a few feet away. …Oops. My bad.) I tugged him to his feet. "So, uh, where were you going before I spazzed and went all psycho-bowling-ball?"

"I have no idea," he admitted, looking sheepish. "I just know I'm looking for a music class with some spin on music theory." He paused for a moment, looking troubled. "…I think?"

"Does it start at two?"

"…Yep."

"Then you're with me!" I probably had the world's dumbest grin on my face right then. He just had some weird effect on me that made me smile.

Give me corny.

Flash.

The both of us seemed to realize that we were still holding hands at the same moment. He let go pretty fast and turned red even faster. Seriously, there was no transition between his white-skin and the sudden burst of pink. "Er, sorry," he said, words running together slightly.

I shrugged, honestly wishing he hadn't let go.

I mean, because now my hand was cold. That's all.

…

"Well, uh, I'll show you where the class is…"

Give me first impressions.

Flash.

* * *

I didn't really pay too much attention in class. I never do, really. It's kind of a bad habit. Bella says it's gonna make me fail. I say that if the dmn teacher wants me to pay attention, he should move the class back to a time when I care about something other than what color the insides of my eyelids are.

Give me honest.

Flash.

Point is, now I have an hour to kill and no one to kill it with. I went and sat on the edge of the fountain to wait for a fellow time-murderer to show up.

I've kind of always loved this part of the school. The fountain, I mean. It's got history or some sht. I've always come out here when I'm bored between classes. Tom took Jude here for their first date. (And yeah, I suggested it, dmn straight!) I just think it matters.

"Hey, you," a smooth voice comes, ripping me out of my thoughts. "How are you alone?"

I looked up and grinned when I saw who it was—Karma.

Look, I know that Shay doesn't like her. I have no clue _why, _since he won't tell me. (See? There's that voice of past-regret or whatever sht I was talking about earlier.) I like Karma. She's funny and smart, and I really just like talking to her.

And yeah, she's really, _really _smoking hot, but sht, I love Shay. A lot.

"It's too early," I replied to her question, still smiling. "I mean, it's pretty much still dark out. The guys sent me to fight off the vampires."

Karma sat down next to me, smiling in her confident way. (I swear she's the most self-assured chick I've ever met. It's kind of sexy …I probably shouldn't be thinking that. Oops.) "I'll help."

"Oh, so now you're Buffy?" I teased.

"No," she said, "I'm Supergirl."

"Really? I always thought Supergirl was blonde." I gently tugged at one of her curls. "This is not blonde, sorry."

"Buffy's blonde," she informed me, smirking.

"That is completely irrelevant," I scoffed. She laughed. "But seriously, you're more Elektra than anything."

Karma rolled her dark eyes, still smiling. "Please, my (arse) is _way _better than hers."

"Well, I might have to give you that one," I said in mock-seriousness.

She laughed again, softer, and then looked off into the distance. "Hey…have you ever really loved someone, even though they hate you?" she asked, gnawing slightly on her bottom lip.

"No…not really," I answered. (Yeah, I know, I'm about as helpful as a torch in a wax museum.)

She sighed. "It's just…I really miss Shane." She looked troubled. "It just hurts that he hates me so much. We used to be best friends…and then he just wouldn't talk to me."

Give me innocent.

Flash.

"Really?" I asked, unsure. "That doesn't sound like Shay." Like, at all.

"Then maybe you don't know him too well," Karma suggested. "I mean, you've been dating him for what, like five months? I've known him all my life."

She did have a point there.

But Shay wouldn't hate someone without a really freaking good reason. That's not who he is. And I don't think he has it in him.

"I just miss him."

"I could talk to him if you want?" Fine, you've found my glaring weakness—sad people kind of melt me. I feel bad when someone's hurt. Really bad. It's a flaw.

"Would you?" She looked so happy. "Ty, you're amazing!"

Give me gratitude.

Flash.

"Thanks," I said, meeting her eyes.

Suddenly the entire world like, stopped. The only thing moving was her, and she was leaning toward me. I couldn't move and I couldn't really think.

Her mouth made contact with mine, and on reaction, I kissed her back. Things got heavy really fast, and my mind stayed shut off. I didn't really know what I was doing anymore. The only thing I knew was that I was making a huge fcking mistake and that I should stop this…but I just couldn't.

"Ty?"

With that one word, everything started working again. I tore myself away from Karma. My eyes felt like they were about to fall out of my skull. I gaped at the two people standing in front of us—a pissed looking Jude and a very, very hurt looking Shay.

Sht.

Sht, sht, sht, sht, _sht._

Give me fcked.

Flash.

* * *

"Give me the wooden spoon," Bella said, attempting to force me into being useful.

"Flash?" I supplied, perfectly content with _not _being useful.

I was leaning forward against the counter in her sunlit kitchen, and she was trying to cook something I'd never heard of. (She'd learned it in France when she'd spent a year studying there right after she graduated high school, which was when I was sixteen. It was actually probably the most miserable year of my life because I missed her so much. …Just don't tell her I said that. I'll deny it. Adamantly.)

"Let me guess," Bella said, leaning toward me from the opposite side of the counter and narrowing her brown eyes. "Shay says that?"

I raised my eyebrows and looked at her through widened eyes. (I'd long perfected the innocent expression. I'd needed it as a kid because I usually ended up messing around and breaking things. And getting caught.) I smiled innocently.

"Jeez, kid, ask him out already," my sister groaned. I guess I might've mentioned Shay more than a few times…

"I can't, Bella," I whined, still giving her the big eyes.

"Why not?!"

"Because he's straight."

Bella scoffed, rolled her eyes, and grabbed her wooden spoon from the counter beside me. She brandished it threateningly. "Tyler Matthew Robbinson, that boy is a big blip on my gaydar and I've never even met him. And you _know _how good my gaydar is."

Eh…she had guessed about me before I'd told her. And I'd told her the day I figured it out myself, back when I was like fifteen. "Well, there's also the fact that—er, nevermind." I could feel blood rising to my cheeks.

"What?" Bella asked, lowering her spoon-weapon a bit.

"…Nothing…"

_Thwack! _"Dmmit, Bella!" I rubbed my sore nose while I glared at her. Seriously, what the hell! I thought sporks were supposed to be the deadly cutlery, not spoons. Why'd she have to ruin that illusion by smacking me with the spoon?!

"_Hey—_no cussing in my house, Ty, I've told you!" my abusive sister growled.

_"You hit me with a spoon!" _I shot back.

"I _tapped _you, you baby," she scoffed with a roll of her eyes. "Now tell me why you won't ask him out."

I dropped my head into my hands and mumbled my reply.

"Can't hear you…"

"_I've—never—asked—out—a—guy—before," _I growled through gritted teeth.

Give me silence.

Flash.

"But—yes you have!" Bella replied, tone softer. "What about that Jack guy?"

"You set that up," I pointed out, head still in hands. "And it only lasted one date."

"…Brendon?"

"You…and one date." I finally looked at her, dropping one hand back on the counter and resting my cheek on the other.

"…Will?!"

"You…and again, one date." You may have noticed, but I don't have very good luck with this type of thing.

Bella, looking exasperated, pushed up my bangs and stared at my forehead.

"…What are you doing, freak?" I asked, giving her a 'WTF' look.

"Trying to see if you have 'one-night stand' written on your forehead," she explained, dropping her hand.

"…Do I?"

"…Are you going to ask him out?"

"…No?"

"…Then yes."

She went back to her cooking and I went back to being useless. That's how things always seemed to work out.

Give me weirdly normal.

Flash.

* * *

Shay whispered something to Jude, who whispered something back, and then walked away without looking at me again. I don't know what they were saying. My heart was pounding too loudly.

The only thing I could think of to do was go after Shay—to apologize; to explain—because otherwise, everything was screwed over, and nothing would ever be okay again. _Why am I so dmn stupid?!_

I shot up from my position at the fountain and got about three steps before the left side of my face exploded. Mostly because Jude had hauled off and slapped me with the hand she had that star-ring on. _"Agh!" _I held the side of my face, grimacing, and stared at her.

I'll tell you straight up that there are only two members of the female species who can strike fear in me on any given occasion.

One is my great-aunt Muriel, because of that one summer when I was forced to stay at her house without Bella. She woke me up every morning by letting her insane pit bull loose in my room. And let it chase me for exercise.

The other is this tiny little photographer named Jude Harrison. Mostly because she has death-glared me on many occasions, and her glare is vicious enough to make Samara pull the top over her well and hide.

Don't get me wrong, I think Jude's pretty cool. But she scares the sht out of me sometimes. Now, for instance.

Give me mad.

Flash.

Actually, scratch that.

Give me homicidal.

Flash.

"I need to—"

_"You're not going anywhere near him," _Jude snarled. The righteous fury in her voice was enough to force me back a step.

"I didn't mean to—" I tried, frantic to get to Shay, who was nearly to the parking lot now.

"You didn't mean to _make out _with the one person he _hates?" _She was shaking, and her fists were clenched. Shay was gone from site now, and I had like, two seconds to get there before he was gone completely.

"How was I supposed to kn—"

"Do you _realize _what this _skank_ did to him!?" She was screaming at me now.

_"No!" _I shouted back, anger finally coming out. _"He wouldn't tell me!"_

"Then _I will!" _she shrieked. She walked forward and stopped right in front of me. When she started talking, there was a colder anger in her tone. "She was his best friend. Her brother was Shay's first boyfriend. Shay got freaked by his dad being a homophobe and went to see him…and figured out he'd gotten _cheated _on." She spat the word at me.

My stomach burned, and I'm pretty sure it was because of guilt, not acid.

"So Shay goes home. This _btch—_" she shot a glare at Karma. "—shows up and tells him to get back with her brother. Shay says no. So what does she do?" She was trembling even harder now. "She brings a video of Shay and her brother together and shows it to his parents."

I'm pretty sure that all color had drained from my face at this point. _How could he not tell me? _I guess I don't know him as well as I thought—and realizing that makes me want to puke. Some boyfriend I am.

"Shay's dad kicked him out." She gave a bitter laugh. "Oh, but that's not _all. _First he disowned him, took his car, and punched him in the face. Shay was living on the street for _months _because this _btch _betrayed his trust and _outed him!"_

My mouth opened slightly, and sickness shot through me. I looked over my shoulder at Karma, and it was like seeing her for the first time.

Her smile was more of a sneer. Her eyes were hard and mocking. "Yeah," she shot. "Yeah, I did it. You know why? Because—"

"I don't care," I said hollowly.

"What?!" I could see the plan she'd had all along now. And I could see that I'd played right into her dirty hands.

Give me blinded.

Flash.

Give me used.

Flash.

"Nothing," I said. "_Nothing _you can say—nothing makes up for that."

She stood up, her face arranged in a near-snarl. She opened her mouth to talk, but I cut her off again. "Go…go home, or back to hell, or wherever you freaking came from." My voice had gotten some emotion back now.

Give me anger.

Flash.

Give me betrayal.

Flash.

Give me desperation.

Flash.

She had the nerve to try to talk again.

"Get out of here!" I shouted, finally losing it. "And don't _ever _come anywhere fcking _near _me, or Shay, or any of us again!"

She finally seemed to get that, yeah, btch, I'm serious. "Fine," she seethed. "Go ahead and choose him. We both know you already screwed things up, kid." She turned and walked away, just like that. I dropped back down onto the fountain and let out a howl of frustration into my hands because I know she's right.

One freaking mistake, one thing that would _never _have happened again had just screwed up my entire life. Well…what matters in it, anyway.

"You actually care?"

I looked up at Jude sharply, disgusted by how surprised she looked. Seriously, I'm not a total jackss. It's not like I'd planned this all out. "Why _wouldn't _I care? I _love _Shay more than I've ever loved _anyone. _You think I don't care that I just made out with someone that wasn't him? _Jeez, _do you really think I'm that much of a bstrd? I didn't even want this to _happen! _We were talking and she frigging _jumped _me and I couldn't freaking _think!" _I gasped for air. I hadn't breathed through any of that.

Jude bit down hard on her lip. Her glare had softened into confusion.

"Please," I begged, voice cracking. "Let me go fix things. I _need _him, Jude."

"I…" She looked to the sky and messed with her necklace while she decided whether to break my heart or save me.

Give me panic.

Flash.

Give me anxiety.

Flash.

Give me another chance.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: Please don't be mean to Ty. He really didn't mean to…and he's already feeling like crap. :P Anyway, I will be rewriting, so it might be a -bit- longer before you get the next two chapters…but after that it shouldn't take long, cuz it won't take so long to fix my dumb mistake. :) 


	20. In Which Love Rhymes with Car Wreck

A/N: Well bbz...I was trying to rewrite this so that I could edit out my stupid mistake. But then I realized, Whoops! It's been almost three months and I promised I wouldn't do this again. And so, since I haven't been able to work around it without having to entirely rewrite the rest of the fic...I just present to you what I already had. And I shall post two chapters tonight to make up for not posting in two months. I'm sorry. :(

Note2: I'm listening to "Little Black Heart" by The Early November. At least, I'm pretty sure that's what it's called. :X

* * *

_Chapter Twenty  
_"_In Which Love Rhymes with Hideous Car Wreck"_

I was on the verge of a panic attack when I was driving away from the school. It's kind of amazing that no matter how much I put into freaking relationships, I _always _get screwed.

Give me easy target.

Flash.

It might not be such a great idea to drive when I'm like this, but I had to get away. I couldn't stay there and listen to explanations. It hurt too much, knowing that it's so easy to throw me away. And it hurt even more that the person that I love more than anyone would be the one to throw me away.

_Don't think about it, Shay, _I tried to tell myself. _Don't make it worse. Just drive. Get home. Then you can curl up in a ball and die._

I don't get how this day started out so normal and ended up like _this. _It's just…it's just freaking cruel. I was supposed to be above Karma's reach. Why does she manage to kill me every time?

I was on the long road leading to our neighborhood now. It's about ten miles of curving road with trees on both sides. Normally I love it; it always comforts me. Now it's like the branches are reaching out for me, to grab me and pull me in.

I've finally gone insane.

Give me delusions.

Flash.

Give me distraction.

Flash.

Just for the record, I didn't see the car pull out of that hidden drive until it slammed into the side of mine. They _are _called hidden drives for a reason—you can't see them. I also didn't realize that I didn't have my seatbelt on until I was almost thrown out of the car.

Oh, also, just for the record, slamming your leg into the side of a car and hearing it snap is not a pleasant experience. Neither is banging forward into the steering wheel just in time to get slammed backward by the air bag.

See, the thing is, pain is kind of painful.

Give me mind-numbing.

Flash.

Give me fading.

Flash.

Give me unconscious.

Flash.

* * *

(Jude's POV)

I could be considered weak for giving into Ty so easily. I know a lot of people would have walked off and left him to grovel. But I couldn't leave him there when I knew how much it killed Shay to not be with him…and I could tell that he really hadn't meant for all of this to happen.

Now, this was not to say that I had not chewed Ty out to the best of my God-given ability. Oh, no, I'd said everything that I had wanted to. Including that if he ever hurt Shay again, I would castarate him and thenkill him so brutally that his own mother wouldn't be able to identify his body.

And it also didn't mean that I forgave him.

But I know that it'll hurt Shay less if everything is explained and he can move on. It would be like ripping off a band-aid. That way, if things ended, he'd be able to heal instead of everything dragging on and on.

"Hey, Jude?" Ty was gnawing at his lip, looking somewhere down the road, when I finally glanced over at him.

"Yeah?"

"Isn't that your car?"

* * *

It was September of my eighth grade year, and we were on a field trip to an amusement park. Problem: The only rides here are roller coasters. Explanation of problem: I hate roller coasters.

Give me phobic.

Flash.

"C'mon, Jude," Spiederman called. He was waving at me from the entrance of a huge monster of a roller coaster.

I stared at him like he was crazy. Which he was. "Uh, no thanks."

"Aw, come _on,_" he whined. "It's just a roller coaster. Riding one won't kill you."

_It might, _I thought darkly. "No, I don't want to. You can't make me."

"I could," Spiederman smirked. "And I will. So it'll be a lot easier if you'll just cooperate, dude."

"I don't think so."

"Just go on _one," _he continued. "One roller coaster and then I won't bug you about it ever again."

I looked up at the roller coaster's black bars, eyes widening slightly. It rose what seemed to be hundreds of feet in the air, pulling you up before dropping you into a free fall. It was the thing most nightmares were made of.

Except it didn't have loops. Just two huge hills one right after the other.

It was a risk, but maybe not a deadly one. _Weigh the outcomes…death or mutilation versus Spiederman bugging off about the roller coasters…_

"Fine," I grumbled. "But just _one, _Spiederman!" 

* * *

"Time stands still." The words had never made sense until that moment. I'd never understood how people could say that time had completely stopped. I guess that's one of those things you have to live through to believe.

The other car had slammed into my car on the passenger side. I could see the slumped-over figure of Shay through the driver's side window.

I can't remember if Ty had completely stopped his car before I was out of it and sprinting toward the wreck.

Give me one-track mind.

Flash.

"Shay! _Shay!" _The shriek filling the air sounded nothing like my voice. It was panicked, scared. _"Shayla!"_

Give me fear.

Flash.

I ripped open the door to the car, my mind spinning at a million miles an hour. "Oh, my God, Shay…_Ty! _Call an ambulance!"

"They're on the way." Ty was at my side, shoving his cell phone back into his pocket. "Shay?"

_Oh, my God, what if he's dead, what am I going to do? _"Shayla, wake up," I pleaded. Tears were burning in my eyes. I reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, gently turning him toward us. I tried to ignore the heavy smell of blood.

"I think my leg's broken." He didn't open his eyes. His voice was a mumble. But he was alive. Relief flooded through me. He's okay. Everything's going to be fine.

"It's okay—ambulance is coming," I said, words rushed. "What happened?" I slid my hand into his.

Half of his bright blue irises became visible. "Drives shouldn't be hidden."

"What?"

He smiled slightly, looking dazed. "Driveways. Hidden. Evil."

Nervous laughter bubbled up from my stomach and past my lips. "Yeah, yeah, evil," I agreed. "Anything that hurts you is, Shayla."

Ty squirmed a little bit beside me.

Give me guilt.

Flash.

Shay's eyes looked brighter when outlined by the dark bruises that were forming. It looked like he'd slammed his head against something. He looked small, smaller than usual, and nearly helpless.

I don't think he realized that Ty was there. He didn't acknowledge him, at least. Ty didn't say a word, though I could see in his eyes the words he was dying to say: _Are you okay? I'm so sorry. I love you._

I gave Ty a frown that was only a tad apologetic. After all, it was his own fault that he was being ignored, if that was the case. 

"I…everything's…spinning," Shay said drowsily. His eyelids were closing, but I could see him fighting against them.

"Shay—stay awake," I pleaded. "You've got to…"

He let his eyes shut, falling—both into unconsciousness and out of the open door. (No seatbelt. Figures.)

Ty caught him before I could move; before Shay came close to hitting the pavement, he was being supported by Ty. His leg—which, I realized now, probably _was _broken—had come down at an awkward angle that made me cringe.

Ty pushed Shay's hair out of his face with long, shaking fingers.

Shay had never looked so breakable. His expression was blank and his eyes were closed. His face was pale under the rapidly darkening bruises. His breathing was quick and ragged, which I could tell from the jerky movements of his chest.

Give me pained.

Flash.

"Is he okay?" I asked, voice rising a pitch.

Give me frantic.

Flash.

Ty shook his head. He looked confused. "I don't know," he said, words slurring together. "The, the ambulance, they'll help him, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," I agreed, again grabbing Shay's hand. "Yeah, he'll be…he'll be fine…"

* * *

I sat next to Spiederman on the roller coaster, which was aptly named The Hearse. I fidgeted, bouncing my legs up and down under the bar that held me down. The only thing that would keep me in if this thing flipped. _No, don't think that!_

"Have a nice ride; we'll see you when you get back…if you survive," the guy at the controls said into a microphone, adding a stupid fake evil laugh to the end.

The ride jolted to life, and I clutched the bar like it was a lifeline. Spiederman was drumming his fingers against his leg, perfectly at ease. 

_Clank. Clank. Clank._

We started going up the first hill. We were leaned backwards at a steep angle, being pulled up (approximately) a million feet by a chain. 

"You know," Spiederman smirked, leaning over. "Roller coasters don't kill people."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You don't know that." 

Spiederman scoffed. "You kidding? I've rode this thing _eight times!"_

Oh, yeah. That made me feel _perfectly _safe. Eight times? Wow, he's like, a professional. Idiot.

I didn't grace him with an answer. I turned my attention to the ever-shrinking parking lot below us. We were nearing the top of the hill now.

I could see for miles around. It was breathtaking, being able to see all of the little ants that were people and their little doll houses and cars—well, it would have been breathtaking, if I wasn't about to have a heart attack.

"Hey, Jude…_There is someone…walking behind you—"_

_"Shut up, Vincent!" _

No, I did not need his stupid head games. That movie freaked me out enough that it added to my roller coaster phobia. I regretted having ever informed him of that fact. 

The ride stopped for a split second. Just long enough for everything to catch up with me.

Give me imminent doom.

Flash.

"Here we go!" Spiederman whooped.

The first few cars began disappearing over the edge, and suddenly we were being dragged down with them.

* * *

Shay was still out cold when the ambulance finally arrived. The EMTs forced me and Ty to move. I fought to stay by his side—he needed me, or I needed him, or both, I don't know—but in the end they won, as most men twice my size do.

"One of you can ride with him," the EMT that had pushed the stretcher said to us.

"Why can't we both?" I asked, my heart pounding loudly in my ears. 

"Only enough room for one," the EMT reiterated. "We had to get the girl out of the other car, too."

I hadn't thought of the other car. Jeez, I hadn't noticed anything about the car, other than the fact that it had totaled mine and hurt my best friend. I hadn't stopped to think that maybe someone was in the other car. The look on Ty's face told me that I wasn't alone in this.

I should probably feel guilty about all of this. But I don't.

I caught Ty's eyes. 

"You go," he said, averting his eyes. "I…I don't think he'll want anything to do with me."

Give me guilt.

Flash.

Give me shame.

Flash.

I didn't argue with him. It was selfish, but I had not for one moment planned on being the one left behind. "Just meet us at the emergency room," I said, beginning to walk backwards to the ambulance. "And call Tommy and Lizzy, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Ty said, nodding slowly. I was to the ambulance door before he called, "Hey, Jude?"

"What?"

"Tell him I'm sorry."

"Ty?" I gestured to the wreckage and the ambulance behind me. "This isn't your fault."

Ty gave me a half-hearted smile. "Yeah, sure." He didn't believe me. I could see it in his eyes. But there was nothing else I could say, and we needed to get to the hospital.

I climbed into the back of the ambulance and sat down. I once again took Shay's hand, being careful not to touch the IV needle the EMTs had stuck in it. "It's going to be fine," I said aloud.

I don't know which of the three of us I was aiming that toward.

* * *

I screamed with more air than I had in my lungs. Spiederman was laughing and hollering beside me, and I was shrieking loud enough for the whole park to hear.

Give me terror.

Flash.

We went down the hill so fast that I was _sure _we had run off the tracks. My face was being pulled backward by the air whipping past me. My fingers were about to snap from how tightly I was holding onto the bar.

I was in a state of near-hyperventilation by the time we reached the bottom—only to immediately start going up the next hill.

"I hate you, Spiederman!" I gasped. "I _can't believe _I let you talk me into—"

"Jeez, take some meds, Harrison, this is just the beginning!"

* * *

You know what I hate about waiting rooms?

Not the crying family members.

Not the lame magazines.

Not the empty vending machines.

_Waiting._

I was wearing a hole in the white tile by the time Ty showed up with Lizzy, Kwest, and Tommy in tow.

Give me relief.

Flash.

I took long, quick steps to get to Tommy. I wrapped my arms around his torso and leaned my head against his shoulder. He held me close, whispering, "It'll be okay girl. Stay strong, all right?"

Give me comfort.

Flash.

"How is he?" Lizzy asked, waiting a moment to let me get it together.

I sighed and pulled away from Tommy. "He's in surgery. They won't give me details, but he'll be okay."

"How long has he been in surgery?" Kwest asked.

"About an hour…the nurse said it'll be another hour until he's out of it, and then a few hours after that before we can see him…" It was killing me. I needed to be up there with him.

"Then we're gonna be here for a while," Tommy concluded. "C'mon, sit down, okay?"

I sighed and let him guide me to a chair. I knew that I would be up and pacing again within a few minutes. Adrenaline was still pumping too quickly through my veins.

Ty sat down away from the rest of us, his face in his hands. I had to wonder if he'd told them everything. I don't think I would've been able to.

* * *

I stepped over Spiederman to get off the ride when it finally stopped. I didn't wait for him, instead choosing to hurry away from the ride as quickly as possible.

"Jude! _Hey, Jude!" _He caught up to me pretty fast. It didn't matter. I'd made my point. I think. "C'mon, Harrison, it wasn't that bad."

I shot him a dirty look that made him stop for a second. (Unfortunately, only a second.) "It was."

"I think you just don't want to admit you loved it."

"I think you just don't want me to get you arrested for attempted murder," I shot back.

"Dude, seriously, stop watching cop shows. It was a roller coaster."

"Don't talk to me."

"Besides, you just about killed my ears," he continued, a smirk in his voice.

I stopped walking and glared at him again. "I did not."

Give me indignant.

Flash.

"What?" he asked loudly, cupping a hand around his ear. "I'm sorry, I can't _hear _you. _Someone _was screaming in my ear for three minutes straight, dude."

"Shut up."

"You didn't." He grinned innocently at me. "Oh, and you wanna know what your face looked like?"

"No," I glowered.

He pulled his expression into an open-mouthed look of terror.

Blood rushed to my face. "Jerk."

"You're just mad because you know I'm right!"

I stalked off again. Because he _was _right. God.

* * *

Time is a really strange thing. The way that it can drag on and on, and yet fly by is just insane. 

I don't know if the wait felt more like three hours of torture or three minutes of stress. I just know that it was complete and total agony, having to wait to talk to my best friend. I guess I'd just never thought about how hard it would be if I didn't have him there to talk to. I mean, I have…but I never realized it would be this bad.

Give me anxiety.

Flash.

Hospitals seriously have a thing for limits. That's something I learned. When the nurse finally said we could see Shay, only two of us were allowed to go, preferably family. 

I stood up. There was no argument. I would've hurt someone to go up there and everyone knew it.

Lizzy glanced over at Ty. "Do you want to go?" she asked a bit reluctantly.

"You can," he replied, voice monotone.

She rose to her feet and the two of us followed the nurse. "He told us," she said once we were in the hall. She rubbed at her eye, further smudging the mess of red and orange and yellow. "About Karma, I mean." The nurse looked at her curiously, but Lizzy didn't notice. "I might not get to be a therapist if I get caught, but I'm gonna kill her. Stupid slut."

Give me aggravation.

Flash.

"I'll help," I said darkly. "The life-ruining skank is going down."

"He's right in here," the nurse said, stopping in front of a door. Obviously she was pretending she hadn't heard us plotting murder so that she couldn't be tried as an accomplice. Smart.

"Thanks," both of us said.

I pushed the door forward and stepped through it. Shay was lying on the hospital bed, his leg already encased in white plaster. His head was wrapped in bandages, and the bruises on his face were nearly black.

I sat down in one of the chairs next to his bed, and Lizzy took the other. Her eyes were filling with tears again. Mine were red and too dry. I'd cried myself out. "Shayla?"

His visible eye opened slightly. He didn't say anything. I'm not sure if he could. "Hey," I said softly, smiling a little bit. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, drawing in a deep breath and wincing. He glanced around the room wearily. "Where am I?"

"Hospital," I answered. "You passed out after the wreck."

"Oh…" He looked troubled for a second. "I don't really, um, remember it. After the...car hit."

This was probably a good thing. "I wouldn't expect you to, kid. But, you're actually okay? About everything?"

"Broken leg, concussion, and lots of bruises," Shay mumbled, "I can deal with. Ty…I dunno."

"It'll be okay," I said, knowing that it wouldn't really help. "And Shay…I've got to tell you something…"

Give me nervous.

Flash.

Give me unprepared.

Flash.

Give me truth.

Flash.

* * *

  
A/N: Please don't eat me. If you knew what I originally wrote in this chapter, then you would be very happy with what I'd done in the rewrite. (And yes, I rewrote this a while ago...I was planning on re-writing again, heh.) 


	21. In Which More Things are Broken

A/N: O HAI BBZ. Two posts, one night? Sounds like a porn. But 'tis not. If you cannot tell, I'm all jacked up on Mountain Dew. But without the Mountain Dew. I'm just jacked up on life. :P Anyway I'll quit mah ramblins.

Note2: I'm listening to "There You Go" by P!nk right now because my iTunes is on shuffle, popping up randomness. Oo, and now it just changed to "I'll Run" by The Cab. It's pretty radtastic.

* * *

_Chapter Twenty-One  
_"_In Which More Things are Broken"_

Shay was quiet for a long time after I told him Ty's side of the night's events. I stayed silent, watching him pick at a loose string on his blanket. It wasn't my time to talk anymore, even though I wanted to burst.

Give me patience.

Flash.

Give me regret.

Flash.

"So…" he finally said, looking up at Lizzy and I. His eyes were still faintly unfocused. "What happens now?"

"Well…I don't think things can get worse," Lizzy said, smiling shakily. "So I guess you get better and just…wait and see?"

"Yeah, I guess." Shay attempted a smile, but it didn't quite work.

"But you're alive," I put in. "And _mostly _in one piece, right?" I wanted to reach out and mess up his hair affectionately, just to make him give a real smile. But I would hit the bandages and I'm pretty sure that messing with that would make me the Worst Friend Ever.

"You're right," he sighed. "I'll be fine. Really."

Give me hurt.

Flash.

* * *

"Girls, visiting hours are up."

I yawned, not even bothering to hide it, and looked up at the nurse through bleary eyes. It took me a moment to know where I was, but slowly, everything came back to me. I was kneeling to the side of Shay's bed, my arms propped onto the mattress. "What?" I asked the nurse, confused.

"I'm sorry," she said, sounding sincere. "But you've got to go home now. I already let you stay longer than I should have." 

I rocked back to sit straight up on my knees. Alertness was seeping back into me as my mind woke up. "But we can't leave Shay. He needs us."

"What your friend needs is rest," the nurse said softly. "He's had a rough day—and so have you, I think. Let him sleep, and then come back in the morning."

"No," I pleaded, "don't make me leave."

"Jude," Lizzy said groggily, grabbing me by the elbow. "Let's just go. He's still sleeping."

I stared at her blankly. "He needs us. He needs us _here."_

"We never told the guys how he's doing," Lizzy said, ignoring the stubborn tone in my voice. She pushed herself to her feet and tugged me up with her. Her eyes focused on mine, and with more force than I'd ever heard her use, said, "Jude. We're leaving, okay? We'll come back in a few hours."

"Why don't you want to stay?" Anger was boiling in the back of my eyes. "How can you leave him here _alone?"_

In a very non-Lizzy way, she snapped, "You look like _hell, _Jude. You need actual sleep, and food that isn't from a vending machine. Shayla will be fine, okay? It'll only be a freaking couple of hours."

"Go, Jude-girl," Shay's sleepy voice came from behind me.

I rubbed my forehead with the base of my palm, trying to calm down. I didn't want to leave him here, all by himself, in the hospital. It just didn't seem right. "Shay, you sure?" I asked reluctantly.

He gave me a smile—a real smile. My heart swelled. "Yeah, go sleep. I'm…" He yawned openly, which mostly finished his point. "…Gonna go back to sleep anyway."

Air rushed out of my lungs in a heavy sigh. "Okay," I agreed, the corner of my mouth quirking downward. "But, I'll be back tomorrow, all right?"

Shay nodded, rolling his eyes and smiling slightly. He waved me off with his free hand. "Night, Jude."

"Night, Shayla."

* * *

When we walked out into the waiting room on our way out of the hospital, it was almost empty. Tommy and Kwest were nowhere to be found. No wonder—by the look of the clock, it was nearly midnight.

There was only one person in the room: Ty, curled up tightly in one of the stiff chairs. His eyes were closed, and barely audible snoring sounds mixed with the hum of the vending machine.

I locked eyes with Lizzy. I chewed on the inside of my lip as I mentally gave up my position as the decision-making leader to her. Frankly, I'm tired of it. I don't know what to do. 

Give me hazy.

Flash.

Lizzy smoothed her red-orange hair down subconsciously and then walked over to the sleeping boy.

_Boy. _I called him that, but he was almost three years older than me. I guess I just can't think of him as older when I see him like this—soft features showing a horrible sense of confusion and pain, even when he was asleep. 

"'S he okay?" Ty mumbled, snapping out of his slumber almost immediately after Lizzy shook him lightly.

"Yeah, he's gonna be fine," Lizzy answered. Her voice was hoarse, probably from crying so much earlier. I fought back guilt when I realized that her raising her voice at me had probably added to that. "Couple broken bones and bruises, but Shay's tough." She nodded along with the last bit.

"Yeah…I know." The ghost of a smile flashed across his face. It vanished quicker than it had come. He looked to me, not letting me sit back and watch for once. "Are…" He hesitated. The clock on the wall ticked off four seconds before he continued. "Are me and him going to be okay?"

With my usual amount of tact and sympathy, I gave him my answer: "I…wouldn't count on it."

His face fell. His shoulders sagged. I felt like I'd just seen him get shot. And I realized that Lizzy was probably right about me needing sleep, because I'm pretty sure that only my sleep-deprived mind could have been that horrible and blunt about something like that.

"I mean, not for a while," I added, even though both of us knew that I didn't believe this. I doubted that Shay would ever completely trust Ty again. There's only so many lines you can cross, right? "Maybe you should…give him some time?"

Ty nodded miserably. He makes it really, really hard to stay mad at him. It's kind of infuriating in its own right. "I will. Just, just tell him I hope he feels better, please…"

"Next time we go up there, I will," I said. I hoped that this lie sounded more sincere. I couldn't throw salt in Shay's wounds.

If Ty didn't believe me, he didn't let on. "I'm…I'm gonna go home," he said in almost a whisper. "I'll, uh…I'll see you guys around." He stood up and then something seemed to dawn on him. "Do you have a ride?"

Lizzy shook her head. "I came with Kwest, and then Jude's car…" She trailed off, and I was glad that she hadn't had to see _exactly _what had happened to my car. I doubt she could've handled that. 

Ty nodded, swallowing hard. He was remembering what I was, I'm sure. "I'll drop you off."

* * *

It was hard to get to sleep once we got home. I was so used to Shay being there that the room felt completely empty. It was too still. I had slept better when I was sitting on the hospital floor.

Give me alone.

Flash.

Ty had looked so tired and confused by the time that he pulled the car into the driveway that I couldn't _not _make him stay. There had been enough hurt and disaster today to last a lifetime. We didn't need more. 

Anyway, my point is that when I got up, finally giving up on getting back to sleep, I was not at all surprised to see Ty sitting at the kitchen table. He had his chin and mouth covered by his hand, with his elbow propped up on the table. He was staring blankly at the tan faux-wood tabletop.

"I keep seeing him…in the car," Ty said hollowly. "Every time I close my eyes."

I opened the cabinet and wrapped my hands around the cool handles of two mugs. I was pretty sure that we still had some of that microwave hot chocolate somewhere. Maybe some real marshmallows, too. Ty looked like he could use it. I know I could. "I know what you mean," I said, not looking up. Of course I did. My heart had almost given out when we'd passed by the site of the wreck on the way home. I couldn't get the sight of all the cop cars out of my mind.

I turned and opened another cabinet, looking behind Pop Tart boxes. I was making too much noise, because I was seriously hoping that Ty would get the hint and not talk about it. It was selfish of me—he probably desperately needed to have someone, anyone, to talk to—but I couldn't handle it just yet. So maybe if I was loud, he wouldn't try to keep on about it.

No luck. Such is my life.

"I was so scared…I thought that he was…I don't know what I would've done…"

Aha! Swiss Miss, I love you so! I grabbed the box and set it on the countertop. I pulled the packets of dried powder from the box, ripped them open, and poured them into the mugs. Water from the sink followed.

Ty's fingers were drumming on the table now. "Do you not want to talk to me?" He sounded vaguely hurt, but not surprised.

"I don't want to talk about _this," _I clarified, slamming the microwave shut and punching in the correct time.

"How can we _not?" _The tapping was silenced, leaving only the sound of the microwave. "It _happened—_we can't just…we can't just _ignore _it!"

I whirled around, glaring at him. "Ty? I can, I will, and I _am _ignoring it. _Excuse me _for not wanting to relive today over and over again!"

Give me hostile.

Flash.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a loud, unexpected ringing—the doorbell. 

Honestly, who the _mess _was ringing the doorbell at—at six in the morning! Whoever it was, they were about to get a _big _dose of Hacked Off Jude. I stalked across the kitchen tile, into the carpeted area by the door. I yanked the door open, seething visibly.

My neck immediately snapped up, seeing as the intruder was like, six foot something. Holy crow. "Um," I said, anger ebbing. He was wearing a police uniform and holding a large cardboard box.

"Morning, miss," he said, since it was _perfectly normal _for him to be at my house at still-dark-thirty in the morning. "Is this the residence of…" He checked the piece of paper on top of the box. "Jude Harrison?"

"Um," I repeated. "Um, yes? That's me." What could be in that box?

"This is for you, then," the officer said, holding out the box. 

"Since when are cops delivery boys?" I asked blankly. It didn't occur to me until I said it that I probably should have phrased that better. 

"Since packages have the remains of a car wreck in them," the officer responded, taking my comment in stride.

"Oh."

Ty was standing behind me now, peering over my shoulder. I took the box from the officer's hands. It was a lot heavier than I had expected. Ty, seeing my strain, grabbed it from me and hauled it over to the table.

"Do I need to sign anything?" I had one hand on the doorknob, ready to close it.

The officer shook his head. "Nope. I just thought I'd drop that off on the way home."

"Thanks."

He gave a nod, said goodbye, and turned around to walk back to his car. I shut the door and shuffled over to the kitchen table. Ty stared at me expectantly, and I nodded. He pulled back the flaps of the box, and both of us looked in.

Inside were the contents of my (late, sigh) car. Ty lifted Shay's backpack out and set it on the floor. A few textbooks—a little knocked around, but otherwise whole—followed, which opened up the view of Shay's shattered cell phone and—

No. No, no, _no._

I might've stopped breathing for more than a few moments. My jaw hung open, and my eyes prickled. "No," I tried to say. No sound escaped me.

There, in horrible, plain sight, was the one thing I'd left in the car—my camera, broken into too many pieces.

Give me speechless.

Flash.

* * *

I got that camera in my eleventh grade year. I had saved up every bit of money that came my way, ending up with a little over six hundred dollars. I did my research on different types of cameras, finally settling on my personal perfect fit: a Canon SLR 20d. 

"I love these cameras," the young guy behind the counter said, whistling softly. "One of the best, I think. I've always wanted one." I'd just given him the money for it, and was now waiting for him to put it in the bag and hand it to me.

I grinned at him, pleased that someone agreed with my choice. "That's what I've heard."

"So what're you wanting to take pictures of?" he asked as he unlocked the case below the counter.

"Anything I can." I was bursting with excitement—I was barely controlling myself from bouncing. Which is saying something, considering how, uh, un-hyper I usually am. But I had reason to be happy—I'd waited for this moment for almost three years.

He set the box on the counter. "You're not going to be one of those girls who just takes pictures of herself, are you?" he asked warily. The glint in his eyes gave away his hidden smirk.

"No," I laughed. "Nah, maybe my friends, or landscapes. I just want to take pictures."

"Well, good on you, then." He chuckled softly and placed the camera box in a plastic bag. He held it out to me, and I took it from him, now completely beyond containing my happiness.

Give me giddy.

Flash.

"Thank you!"

"Yeah, just come back soon," he grinned.

"I will, no worries!" I called over my shoulder as I hurried out the door. Once in my car, I gently took the camera from the box. 

My heart was exploding with pride. All of my work, all of my effort—it all came to this camera. 

Now, to get home, raise the camera to my eyes, and hear the click of the shutter…

Give me thrilled.

Flash.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Jude," Ty said, his words meaningless. "Do you think you can get it fixed?"

I shook my head back and forth, numb. With this amount of damage, it would never work again. My first and only camera, gone. How would I take pictures without a camera?

And if I couldn't take pictures, how could I keep up with my photography class? How could I record all of these memories?

I slowly reached out a hand and touched the shattered pieces of one of the biggest parts of my life…and the tears came again.

Give me defeat.

Flash.

Give me heartbreak.

Flash.

Give me too much.

Flash. 

* * *

A/N: So, I'll try and get back to updating normally again, guys. Kick me in the head if I don't update by next Friday. Or like, send me nasty, strongly worded PMs. Hope you liked these couple of chapters. :)


	22. In Which There are Surprises

A/N: HAI GUYS. I don't have time for witty remarks right now cuz I'm about to go musical-movie-marathon with one of my bffs. Thus, here is the chapter!

Note2: I am currently listening to the new PATD CD on repeat and it is FIERCE, KIDDIES.

_Chapter Twenty-Two_

"_In Which There Are Surprises"_

Somehow, I managed to make it through the next two weeks without breaking down and punching holes in the wall. I really was starting to lose my mind, what with both Shay _and _my camera gone. The twisted mind controlling the world had obviously decided to pelt me with everything it had.

I knew that I was being moody and snappish, even though it wasn't anyone's fault, but I couldn't keep my mouth shut. I'd had a handful of fights with Lizzy, which was, um, not fun.

Give me harsh.

Flash.

Anyway, that is why I walked into the hospital with a huge frown on April 9. I was more than a little bit morbidly depressed.

I hadn't really heard from anyone that day—I think Lizzy was on a date with Kwest or something—so I'd gone to see Shay alone.

(It was kind of sad, actually—poor boy is so stir-crazy. I mean, he can't leave the room—jeez, he can't even get up and walk around.)

I wasn't really expecting what I got when I opened the door.

There aren't too many moments of the past few weeks that I was really paying attention to, but I'll tell you what I remember.

* * *

First, let me make this clear: I _so _did not mean to spy. I had gone to get a Coke out of a vending machine, but then I realized that I was short on change, so I went back to the room. It's not my fault that Ty had managed to get Shay to see him. And who can blame a girl for listening in?

Give me irresistible.

Flash.

"Shay…I never meant for it to go that far," Ty said. Through the small window in the door, I could only see the back of him. "I don't know how it happened…"

I could see Shay bite his tongue against the _Well, you shoved your tongue down her throat and proceeded to eat her face _comment. "Yeah," he replied with a non-committal shrug.

"I don't really know what to say," Ty admitted.

Shay bit down on his lip. He studied Ty for a moment. From the slight changes in his expression, I know that he was weighing pros and cons.

I wasn't really sure what I thought he should do. It was kind of an odd feeling for me. I just didn't know what would hurt him less.

Give me uncertainty.

Flash.

He looked away from Ty. I knew his decision before he said it. "Ty…I don't think I can…I mean…"

Give me flustered.

Flash.

"We're done?" Ty finished for him, the hurt note in his words making me feel sick.

"Yeah," Shay whispered. The same hurt was reflected in his eyes. I almost burst through the door and hugged him, but I caught myself before I moved. "Yeah…yeah, I think it's…better…for both of us."

"Friends, then?" Ty was grasping at straws now. "Because cutting you completely out of my life—that's not better for anyone, Shay…"

Shay paused for a moment, and then nodded. "Yeah, I think I can do that."

I stepped silently away from the door and edged down the hallway, feeling guilty for eavesdropping on something so private.

I took a moment to mentally cheer for Shay—at least he'd done what he thought was best. He deserved a new start. Good on him for realizing it.

Give me proud.

Flash.

Oh—crap, I should probably go find some change now, eh?

* * *

_"Surprise!"_

My mouth opened slightly in confusion. There were eight people in the room—Shay, Lizzy, Tommy, Kwest, Ty, and the SME boys. Lizzy had on a bright blue paper cone-hat. I stared at them all blankly. "What's going on?" I asked slowly.

"Happy…Birthday?" Shay offered, smile faltering.

I put a hand to my mouth, eyes wide. _How does someone forget their own twentieth birthday? _"You guys," I said with a slight laugh. "You didn't have to…"

"Psh," Shay said, waving a hand flippantly. "It's your twentieth. And you're Jude. Of course we had to."

I sent him a big grin, which he returned. The majority of his bruises had faded completely, leaving just some healing cuts and, of course, his broken leg. He had a big white cast on it—not that much of it was still white. Roughly half the planet had come in to sign it or doodle on it.

Give me appreciated.

Flash.

Shay started talking to Lizzy as Tommy stole my attention. He tilted my chin up and kissed me lightly. I smiled into him. He broke away and tapped the end of my nose with his finger. "I've got something for you after this," he whispered.

My heart beat unevenly for a moment and I grinned stupidly at him. He always knew how to make me happy. Especially when I felt like throwing myself off of a cliff. (Yeah, I know I should look at the positive. I have just been really, really freaking emo lately.)

"Time for your present!" Lizzy sing-songed, holding out a box wrapped in blue paper. I took it from her, giving all of them a happy look. Lizzy was excitedly clapping her hands together, giving me a look that clearly said, _"Open it!!"_

I stuck a fingernail under a fold in the paper and tugged upwards. The paper tore, showing me a glimpse of the box underneath. I glanced up to notice that everyone was watching me with a strange mix of emotions.

Give me anxious.

Flash.

Give me cautious.

Flash.

"Maybe I should wait," I teased.

"Open it, Harrison," Spiederman said, narrowing his eyes playfully.

I smirked at him, and pulled the rest of the paper off. My smirk fell off of my face, my mouth opening in shock. "Guys, I can't take this," I said, staring down at the camera box in my hands.

"Yes, you can," Ty said from a chair.

"Yeah, you deserve it," Kyle agreed. "After everything you've done for us, splitting the cost for this is the least we can do."

"Even if we don't get to eat for a few weeks," Wally joked, earning him smacks to the head from Kyle and Spiederman.

"Guys," I repeated. The rest of my vocabulary had vanished. I thought my eyes were about to pop out of my skull and slap down on the box in my hands.

"Psh, girl, did you think we were gonna let you bomb your photography class?" Shay flipped his hair out of his eyes and raised an eyebrow. _Or drop Operation Stalkerazzi?_ That's what the raised eyebrow meant.

"Thank you," I said, my voice in a whisper. "Thank you guys _so much. _You have no idea how much I love you guys!"

I have a camera! Sure, it isn't the camera that became my close friend. That can't be replaced. It will always be my original camera, my special first.

But, oh my _God, _I have a camera. I have something that I can whip out at any given moment to capture everything around me. My friends had done all of this for me—even though I'd been in Zombieland for the past few weeks.

Give me gratitude.

Flash.

I went around the room, hugging everyone and repeatedly expressing my thanks. And then, to top it off, I put the camera into working order and forever stored this moment on film.

After almost two hours of joking around with my friends—genuinely happy for the first time in weeks—and snapping picture after picture, I left the hospital with Tommy. He kept shooting me impish looks. His ice blue eyes were sparkling with some hidden mischief.

"What're you planning?" I asked, smiling up at him with a hint of faux-suspicion.

"It's a surprise," he smirked.

Oh, this would be interesting.

I didn't push for an answer, instead choosing to play along. Tommy seemed excited—odd, seeing as he tended to not show much emotion. He had a boyish happiness about him, and it was infectious. I couldn't help but keep smiling.

(It actually probably looked really weird for two people to be grinning like fools on the way out of a hospital.)

"All right." Tommy turned around and stopped once we reached the parking lot. "Now, the surprise is…not that we're going to get food at the place of your choice."

"Ah, just tell me!" I had gasped and playfully smacked him the second he'd said 'not'.

"The surprise is our means of transportation," Tommy continued, ignoring my slap. "Since you can't handle the suspense." He pointed in the direction of said means of transportation.

My eyes lit up, and my words came out in a squeal. _"You're letting me ride the Quincy-cycle?!"_

Tommy cringed at the nickname. "Hey—what did we say about that name, girl?"

I was too busy flitting around the bike, eyes wide. (I thoroughly blame Lizzy for whatever drug was slipped in my Pepsi to make me this hyper. She would know what to give me, too. Her psychology class had done a whole unit on mind-altering drugs.)

This day just kept getting better and better. Ack.

"So, where are we going?" Tommy asked, pulling out a helmet and placing it on my head.

I grinned at him. "I'm thinkin' Arby's."

* * *

I really hated fighting with Lizzy.

I know—I could _not _fight with her, right? Wrong. I know it's hard to tell through my charming personality, but I'm a bit of a btch. I'm especially prone to lash out at people when I'm depressed. …And also, our peacekeeper was in the hospital.

After successfully convincing our next door neighbor that we weren't trying to kill each other, Lizzy gave me a hurt look. Her eyes were watering. "This isn't my fault," she said in a dangerously soft voice. "_Stop _taking it out on me." She turned and walked into her room, rubbing her eyes as she went. She didn't slam the door, but the soft click of the door catching still managed to sound like a gunshot.

I turned and flopped backward onto the couch. I stared up at the ceiling, my expression blank. I had been too harsh on her, and I knew it. But I couldn't force myself to shut up. Or maybe, deep down, I really just wanted to lash out and hurt someone as much as I hurt. At least, that's what Lizzy's psych book said. Not that I'd been reading it.

…Okay, maybe I had, but it's hard to ignore a big hot-pink sticky note that says "READ IT!!", taped to an open book on my bed.

I heard muffled sniffles through the thin wall, and guilt rose up in me. What was I doing, making one of my best friends cry? What was wrong with me?

I knew that I should go and apologize, but I couldn't bring myself to move. I didn't want to end up in yet another fight.

Through the wall, I heard a drawer open, and then a pause. And then footsteps, and the door opening. "Jude? What is this?" Lizzy asked once she was in the room.

I sat up and stared at the object in her hand. "It appears to be some sort of electronic device used to flatten hair," I deadpanned.

"Why was it in my sock drawer?" The slightest hint of humor glinted in her still-teary eyes.

"It killed my stalker cam." I blinked innocently, trying to judge her mood. I could never read her as easily as I could read Shay. "I thought it deserved punishment."

Lizzy let out a short laugh. "Maybe we should sent it to Trashland. Shay's hair is better not-straight anyway."

Both of us fell silent. I sat up completely, and finally let the words burst out: "I'm really sorry—I shouldn't take everything out on you—I'm just seriously a major—"

"I'm sorry, too," Lizzy cut me off. "Let's stop fighting, okay? I hate it. A lot."

"Okay," I agreed, relieved. "I hate it to. So…if I start at it again—"

"You and the straightener will be broken," Lizzy finished, waving her weapon at me threateningly. Then, she smiled to let me know that she was at least half-joking. "But until then…my sock drawer? C'mon, girl, you gotta be original—try shoving it in _his _sock drawer. He wouldn't think to look there."

Give me obvious.

Flash.

* * *

Being on the back of a motorcycle is like what I've always imagined flying would be. Terrifying and exhilarating were the two emotions that came to mind.

Odd, though, because I really didn't feel like I was in any danger, like I would if I were with anyone but Tommy. With him, I didn't have to worry—somehow, I knew I was safe. That was a great, previously unknown, feeling to me.

I held myself close to him and leaned my cheek against the back of his leather jacket. I closed my eyes and let myself fly.

Give me happy.

Flash.

Give me unwary.

Flash.

Give me free.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: Just for the record, motorcycles scare the crap out of me and I will never, ever, ever go on one again. :) Just to let you know. :lol: Hope y'all liked this. I'm starting to get back on track with updating, I think? Better, at least. :)


	23. In Which There is a Warning

A/N: Hey everybody! How'zabout an update, eh? ;) Well, enjoy this one. :D

Note2: I'm currently listening to "Still Love" by Holly Brook. She's a pretty amazing singer, and I highly suggest you look her up!

* * *

_Chapter Twenty-three  
_"_In Which There is a Warning"_

A few days later, the nurses finally gave Shay a pair of crutches and sent him home. It was definitely a relief—things could go back to normal since Shay would be there.

Ty had driven Lizzy and I to the hospital to pick Shay up. (Kwest and Tommy were working with SME. The guys had thrown out several of their songs, and were now trying to write more. It was a minor scandal.) The excitement in Ty's wide brown eyes was fenced in by anxiety.

Despite the "friends" agreement, things were still understandably awkward between them…to the point where I would want to leave the room.

Shay had gotten pretty good at hobbling around on crutches. Then again, the key word there is _hobbling. _He was prone to mess up and fall, but he hadn't done this in a while. Still we were all keeping an eye on him on the way to the car.

"I'm fine," Shay said to us, slightly exasperated. "Seriously, guys, I'm not gonna fall."

"That's what you said last time," Lizzy pointed out. "Right before you fell on your face. Klutz."

Shay stuck his tongue out at her. While doing this, he successfully managed to stick the end of one of his crutches into a low section of the pavement and start falling.

Ty shot out an arm and caught Shay around the ribs, keeping him from falling over. For a guy who couldn't catch a Coke can if you handed it to him, he had some pretty dang good reflexes when it came to Shay. He set Shay straight, and his hand lingered around Shay's waist.

Give me concern.

Flash.

Shay and Ty locked eyes, and both of them just stood there for a moment, lost. Eventually, Shay snapped back to reality and broke eye contact. His gaze moved to Ty's hand and Ty pulled it away quickly and gave a barely audible apology. Both of them looked in opposite directions, attempting to hide their blushing faces from each other.

"You okay?" I asked Shay, providing him out to that bit of awkwardness.

"Yeah," he replied, relief in his eyes. (I chose to ignore the tinge of regret.) "But I seriously need an 'EPIC FAIL' badge for that one."

"I'd say 'Walk much?' but I think that might be rude," Lizzy teased, attempting to cut the tension.

Shay rolled his eyes and smiled, but didn't say anything else. Not that he would admit it, but I'm pretty sure he was focusing very hard on walking. He obviously didn't want to experience another post-Tyla moment.

"Uh…you know what? I'm going to go and, uh, get the car ready," Ty said before dashing off down the parking lot.

I dropped back to walk next to Lizzy. We shared a wide-eyed look, and I whispered, "Awkward…"

Lizzy made a wincing sort of smile. "Oh, yeah. Just a bit."

* * *

Things very quickly got back to normal around our house, other than the fact that Shay couldn't drive and we were down one car—mine was undergoing major car-surgery on my insurance's dime. (And the dime of the girl who had slammed into it.)

On the Monday after Shay came home, I was sitting in my photography class. I was leaning back and tapping my pen against the desktop, waiting for Miss Hudgens to dismiss us.

It had been hard to pay attention lately, with everything that had been going on. It was like a switch in my brain had been flipped that gave me ADD. I just couldn't focus.

"Jude, I need you to stay after class," Miss Hudgen's clear voice cut into my thoughts. "Everyone else, I'm done, so get out."

Wait, what?

Was I in some sort of trouble? What had I done?

_Quit being paranoid, _my sanity scolded me.

I pushed back my chair and walked over to Miss Hudgens as the rest of the students shoved their stuff into their bags and left. "Yes, ma'am?" I asked nervously.

She looked at me over the frames of her glasses. "You're not in trouble…calm down."

I relaxed. Well, I forced myself to relax, which might not count, but still.

Give me Zen.

Flash.

"Jude, I try not to listen to gossip, but I have to ask you—is it true that you're dating Tom Quincy?"

I nodded, confused. "Um, yes…since December."

"As in the subject of your project?"

Ohhh. Okay, now that made more sense. "Um…yes. Is that bad?" In other words: Am I going to end up failing this assignment because of that?

"It's going to make the rest of the class suspicious," she answered, frowning. "There's so much of a possibility that you could've cheated and told him that you needed candids."

Thinking back to how I hung from my elbows on a window sill until my arms almost fell off, just so that I could get pictures, I got more than a bit offended by this accusation. "I wouldn't do that," I said, trying to keep my anger pushed back. "I've worked so hard on this project—it's not even fair to me to say that I would."

"Again: calm down. I don't think that you would, Jude. I'm not accusing you. I'm telling you what you're in for when these pictures are displayed."

"Honestly, I really don't care what they think."

"You should, Jude, when it comes to this. Kids are vicious, in case you haven't figured that out yet. One kid that gets angry because you got a better grade than them could tell other teachers about how they think you cheated. That can lower other teachers' trust in you, and then they'll grade you harsher on things like papers. Maybe think that because you cheated on this, you'd cheat on that. And you know what happens to people that are accused of plagiarism."

Oh, yeah. Goodbye scholarship, goodbye college, goodbye any sort of future. I considered what she said for a few moments while I studied the blank wall behind her. "Well," I finally said. "Well, Miss Hudgens, I love Tommy. I've done a really good job at keeping him oblivious to all of this. I'm sorry, but I'm _not _giving him up for anything."

Miss Hudgens nodded. "I thought you'd say that. I can't stop you…" She shook her head as she turned around to start packing her lecture notes up.

I took this as my hint to leave. I was almost to the door when she said, "Jude? Just be careful. Secrets like this are never good for relationships."

I let the closing door be my response. What can you even say to something like that?

Give me warning.

Flash.

* * *

I filled Shay in on the conversation once I got home. The two of us were attempting to do math work that involved more letters than a research paper.

When I finished the story, Shay paused. "You sure this woman isn't named 'Trelawny'? Cuz that's some pretty Trelawny-ish sht there, Jude."

"Yeah, I know, right?" I put down my pencil and pushed my bangs out of my eyes. "But she's right—what is Tommy gonna say when I tell him that I've been stalking him with a camera all year?" Somewhere along the time I had dropped the 'practically' from 'practically stalking'.

"Jude-girl, I'm pretty sure you'll be okay," Shay assured me. "He loves you; he'll get it." He paused, smirked a bit, and then added, "And, uh, if he hasn't figured it out by then, it's kind of his fault, right?"

I laughed, feeling a little bit better. "Yeah, I've been pretty obvious, huh?"

"You were hanging from a window, waving like a maniac to get my attention, and he _still _didn't notice." Shay grinned at the memory.

"Either he's blind, or somebody upstairs really loves me," I giggled.

"Or both," he added.

Both of us snickered for a moment. When we'd calmed down, I said, "_Jeez, _I've missed this." It was hard to be sad when Shay was in a good mood.

"So did I!" Shay exclaimed. "Did you know that after they kicked you guys out at night, the only person I had to talk to was the night nurse? That woman thought it was her sole duty in life to teach me the like, three hundred types of French cheeses, or whatever."

"What did you say?"

_"'__Je __ne __parle__ pas __anglais__'," _Shay said, making me cackle more. "But then she switched to French. So I had to pretend to pay attention."

"Cheeses…for almost a month?" How much can you teach someone about molded milk?

"I got the weekends off," Shay admitted. "But still, I was practically listing different types of _le __fr__o__mage _in my sleep."

"You're too nice," I said. "I would've snapped after one night and told her where to shove her cheese."

"Temper," Shay smirked, shaking his head. "I dunno; I guess I just figured, why not listen to her? She seemed kind of…alone." For a moment, he looked a bit sad, and I started to wonder if we weren't just talking about a crazy nurse with a cheese fetish anymore. Then, he shrugged and then, in a totally different tone, said, "So, what did you get for that problem?"

Hello, 360 subject change! Whatever, I'll let it go. He'll tell me what's bugging him eventually. (Read: when I have the energy to pry.)

* * *

_Screech._

"Dmmit, Jude! I told you—come to a _slow _and _smooth _halt," Don growled from the passenger seat. "Are you _trying _to give me whiplash?"

I did not want Don to be the one to teach me how to drive, but I really had no other option. My mom was never at home. I hadn't talked to my dad since the night my mom kicked him out. He'd never called. He didn't even come to Sadie's funeral.

So, I was stuck having my hung-over stepfather teach me. As you can probably imagine, this wasn't the most comfortable scenario possible. I was so stressed that I was shaking. My knuckles were white around the steering wheel at exactly 2 and 10. "Sorry," I mumbled weakly.

At that point, the thought of driving terrified me. It had from the second I got behind the wheel. The car changed from a pleasant mode of transportation into a spinning death trap. _So _not fun, in case that wasn't clear.

"Don't apologize, just do it right," Don shot.

Give me irritation.

Flash.

Give me frustration.

Flash.

"Yessir," I muttered. All of my confidence died every time I got in the driver's seat. I guess it was better that way, because I wasn't shouting at him and making us wreck. Still, I hated being so speechless. So helpless.

"Turn up here," Don said gruffly. I took in where we were and tensed up. The turn that he had pointed out was crazy sharp, and there was a ditch on the outside of the lane I'd be turning into. I so wasn't ready for this.

"Don, I can't—"

"Yes, you can. Just turn."

I flipped on my right turn signal and took a deep breath. I spun the wheel after checking for traffic, and I pulled into the road.

"Straighten the wheel."

I tried; I really did, but the wheel suddenly felt like it had been cemented into place. I frantically tried to turn left, to keep away from the ditch, but it just _wouldn't work._

_"Straighten the wheel, Jude!"_

"I'm _trying!" _My voice came back to me in my panic.

Both of us were bumped upward when the car ran off the road. I could only see the blurred colors of the grass and trees surrounding the ditch. I could only hear myself screaming, and then Don shouting, _"Brake! Brake!"_

The word finally made sense in my mind, and I slammed my foot down on the brake. We stopped with three wheels down in the ditch.

I was nearly hyperventilating, and I was too scared to look at Don as he shifted the car into park and snarled, "Get out of the car." The anger in his voice painted a picture that was terrifying enough that I didn't hesitate to comply.

I stood to the side of the car, in the ditch, as Don unsuccessfully tried to move the car out of it. After nearly twenty minutes of doing nothing but spinning dirt with the wheels, Don yanked the keys out and got out of the car. He slammed the door and stalked over to me. "Find someone else to teach you how to drive," he snarled, grabbing me tightly by the arms and shaking me. "And don't expect _anything _from me until you pay for the tow truck, you stupid btch." He shook me one last time and then let go, leaving me so off balance that I fell backward.

I had bruises on my arms for the next week, and Kyle ended up teaching me how to drive out in the country, where no cops would find out.

Give me dysfunctional.

Flash.

* * *

"Jude!" Lizzy sing-songed as she walked through the door that night. She was wearing a shirt that was so blindingly neon that I couldn't look at her for more than a few seconds. (I, personally, never really understood the purpose of colors that did nothing but make your retinas bleed, but Lizzy loved them. Obviously.) "Where's Shayla?"

I pointed my pen at the door to our room and said, "Sleeping."

"Good." Her eyes were gleaming. She crashed down into the seat across from me and folded her arms on the table. She leaned forward and stage-whispered, "We have some planning to do on Operation Takeout."

I swear, a few more operations and the two of us would be official spies. But y'know, I'm not complaining. "What do you have in mind?"

Give me conspiracy.

Flash.

Give me evil genius.

Flash.

Give me justice.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: Yay, end of chapter! Hope you guys liked this one. :) Oh…and to give you something to look forward to: Someone finds out about the project next chapter…hee. ;) So just review, heh. I'll have chapter 24 up by next Friday! :) Thanks for reading!


	24. In Which the Project is Exposed

A/N: Ack. Sorry I'm a little late! The past few days have been ridiculous, what with the tornado drills and insanity that followed. (Aka I got stuck at school an extra forty minutes. Ughhh.) Anyway. Here is your chapter! Sorry for being late! :X

Note2: I am currently listening to All Time Low's cover of "Umbrella", and I'm kicking myself for not looking them up earlier.

* * *

_Chapter Twenty-Four  
"In Which the Project is Exposed"_

Hallelujah for slow nights at work and the work I can get done during them! Seriously, I love it. And nobody can get onto me for having my laptop, because no one's here. Woot.

A huge smile crossed my face as I saved the last of my Tommy pictures. Now all that was left was to print them off on campus and turn them in. "Success!" I exclaimed, punching both hands into the air.

Shay, who had been fiddling with one of the acoustic guitars, looked up. "Did you finish?"

"Yeah—yeah, I'm done!" And thank God—I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of me, as clichéd as that sounds.

"Please tell me you're not going to make us wait to see them," Lizzy moaned.

"You guys know the rule," I said, sighing. I was immediately bombarded with their protests.

"Oh, come on!" Shay gave the big eyes, and I abruptly turned away from them. The big eyes are impossible to say no to.

"Jude, we've been just as far in this as you," Lizzy pleaded. "Seriously, you _can't_ make us wait—it's against the policy of our agency!"

"Oh, we've got a policy now, huh?" I glanced back over at the two of them and received the Kiss of Death. Two big-eyed puppy-faces stared back at me.

Okay.

On the one hand, I have an established rule not to show my photography assignments to anyone until the night before I hand them in. It is _my_ policy, one of those few demands that I'd made.

On the other hand, I owed just about every picture to my best friends. Whether they were helping me stalk or introducing me to Tommy in the first place, they'd both been there every step of the way. These pictures were theirs as much as mine.

Give me difficult decision.

Flash.

"Gah!" I finally burst, exasperated. "Fine! You can see them!"

Shay burst into a huge smile, all traces of faux-sadness vanishing. Lizzy clapped her hands together excitedly, emitting indecipherable squealing noises. I reluctantly picked up the laptop and carried it over. I handed it to Shay, who set it in his lap. "Okay, put it on slideshow," I said. I stood behind him, leaning forward so that I could see.

There were sixty pictures—thirteen of which were colored differently. "Just look through the first couple; you already know the stories."

He flipped through the first few pictures—Tommy picking out guitar strings, Tommy and Ty leaning against one of the school buildings, Tommy messing around with the SME guys. At the next picture, Lizzy let out a gasp. "OHMIGOSH!"

"Is that—is that _Jack Marin_ in the background?!" Shay sounded choked.

The picture was from the Cute is What We Aim For concert, and sure enough, behind Tommy's smirking face was the (ex)bassist. He was talking to someone else in the background, facing the camera. "Uh, did I not mention that I talked to him?" If you could call complimenting his non-existent scarf "talking".

"Uh, _no_?"

"Oops?"

"Guh!" Lizzy exclaimed, shoving my shoulder lightly.

"Dude, I'm officially shunning you," Shay said.

"Fine. Gimme my laptop back, shun-boy."

"…Grr. Un-shun."

I gave him an amused smile. "_Office_ overload much?"

"Yeah, sue me." He rolled his eyes, smiling. "Continue with the pictures, please…"

"Well, since you asked nicely," I said sarcastically. "Okay—the next one…that's from when we went to the movies back in January. He looked over at me while I was watching, and I caught it with the stalker-cam."

The picture after that was my favorite. It was one of the shots I'd gotten from the window sill. I had zoomed in until Tommy's frame filled the shot. He had his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He was looking down at his feet without much expression. There was a feeling of almost…peace in the picture. It was one of the black-and-white shots.

"I like this one," Lizzy said. "It's like, the cover of a CD or something."

"I'm just glad one of those freaking pictures turned out good." I shook my head. "After everything it took to get 'em, I mean."

I ruffled Shay's hair in the spot where he'd banged his head that day. He tilted his head back and scrunched his face up at me. I did the same back. I won because he broke into a grin. "I'm gonna miss these stalker missions," he said.

"Me too," I agreed. Surprisingly, I meant it. Even though it was a pain sometimes, they had definitely made life interesting. "It's fun to see what we can get away with."

"Um, guys," Lizzy said. At the same time, Shay said, "I still don't get how Tommy didn't catch you stalkarazzi-ing him for almost a year."

"Uh, sorry if I'm interrupting, but _what the hell_?"

I saw my own look of horror reflected in Shay's eyes. Both of us slowly looked up at the source of the voice—a flabbergasted Ty.

"Hey—pull over here!" Lizzy pointed to a park up ahead. Her tone carried more suggestion than demand. "There's a really cute playground, and then picnic tables. We can eat there, right?"

"Yeah!" Shay seemed to brighten at the idea. "That okay, Jude?"

"Mmhmm," I agreed. It was a little less than a week after Lizzy had first joined us, and we were driving home from good old Mickey D's with take-out bags. My car was going to smell like French Fry grease for a week, but what can you do? Poor college kids love the dollar menu.

Give me affordable.

Flash.

Shay pulled over into the small parking lot and the three of us got out of the car. Shay poked me in the side as we started toward the picnic table. I smiled and bumped him with my shoulder.

"I love this place," Lizzy said, twirling around as she walked. "I slept in one of those little castle things." She pointed, and I followed her finger over to the playground, which was designed to look like a giant castle.

As odd as it might sound, I could picture Lizzy staying there. Princess Lizzy, ruler of the over-grown children. It suited her. Still, it was a little sad to think that she'd been living here.

The three of us sat down at one of the picnic tables and began chowing down on our grease-filled, cheap food.

Shay, who had at the time been on a vegetarian streak, gave my cheeseburger a disdainful look, but made no comment. He just popped a French fry into his mouth and stared.

"Shay, dear, it's a dead cow," Lizzy remarked. "It would still be dead if Jude wasn't chomping down on its carcass. Move on, please."

He turned his wide-eyed gaze to her, his mouth open slightly in confused shock. Lizzy flashed him a bright smile. "Sorry, just stating facts!" She took a bite of the cooked chicken flesh in her hands.

Shay pointed at her with a French fry—which promptly went limp and dripped a little grease onto the table. He cringed a bit at this and dropped the fry. "…Nevermind."

"Yeah, thought so," Lizzy laughed lightly.

Shay suddenly jolted and stared up at the grey sky.

"Whoa, tourettes much?" I raised an eyebrow and leaned away from the table.

"It's…raining," Shay said in a confused sort of tone.

With that perfect timing that is usually reserved for movies, the rain started pouring down on us. After a chorus of loud curses, the three of us gracefully stumbled away from the table. We had two choices of shelter—the car, which was down in the parking lot, or the castle, which was right next to us. "C'mon, let's get to the castle!"

* * *

"I can totally explain this," I burst, eyes wide. Ty looked a little more than freaked out. Then again ,from what he'd just heard, he did have the right to be.

Give me mortification.

Flash.

Ty shook his head in disbelief and replied, "Well, uh, explain away."

I looked back to Shay, hoping for reassurance, but his eyes were fixed to a spot just beyond Ty's frame. I was beginning to wonder who this was more awkward for. "Look…it's a project for my photography class. It…the teacher assigned us a subject at the beginning of the year, and we were supposed to take candids of them all year..." I recited the premise of my project as if reading from a teleprompter.

"And Tom was your subject?" Though Ty had visibly relaxed—obviously believing me—he still looked odd.

Give me uneasy.

Flash.

I nodded. I felt like I was going to be sick. What if he told Tommy? I mean, him and Tommy were really good friends—of course Ty would feel obligated to tell him…I would tell Shay or Lizzy if I heard something like this… But he just can't tell Tommy—it would ruin everything.

"Isn't that…illegal, though?" His tone was curious and confused. "To be taking pictures of him without his knowledge or permission, when he's not voluntarily in the public eye?"

Now, I've never thought of Ty as dumb—but I've never seen him as a genius either. I guess everyone has one of those people that is just normal-intelligence level that sometimes randomly spouts off little bits of wisdom. Apparently, Ty was mine. Needless to say, his question threw me a bit. "What, are you a lawyer-in-training or something?"

He shrugged a shoulder, a sheepish look dashing across his face. "I took a Law and Society class in my senior year in high—hey! No changing the subject!" He cringed a bit. I had a feeling he was kicking himself for being so easily sidetracked.

I refrained from pointing out that _technically_, he'd been the one to change the topic. "Um, actually, Professor Hudgens said that she got permission," I answered slowly. "I guess on the applications there's a box you can check to allow the school to use you for stuff like that."

"I don't think Tom would've check that box."

Neither did I. "Then he probably checked the wrong one," I countered anyway. "But still, it's permission."

The side of Ty's mouth tugged downward, like he wasn't sure if he believed any of this to be morally correct.

"You can't tell him, Ty," Shay finally spoke up. "Jude's worked so hard on this…she should at least get to be the one that tells him."

Both boys locked eyes for a moment. I could almost feel the heat that slowly rose to Ty's face. "Okay," he finally said, dragging his eyes away from Shay, back to me. "On one condition." He arranged his features into a determined look.

"Name it," I replied cautiously.

"You gotta answer this: Do you really like Tom, or was all of this just for your project?"

His accusation stung, but even I had to admit that it was a valid question. "I _love_ Tommy," I told him. "More than just about anyone. I wouldn't use him like that."

"Well…okay. But you have to tell him," he added as an afterthought.

"I will," I nodded reassuringly, both to myself and him. "When I turn this in."

Give me deadlines.

Flash.

* * *

"Hey, Jude, guess what?" Lizzy said as the three of us squashed into one of the covered parts of the castle.

"Hey, Lizzy—what?"

"I'm _wet_!" Lizzy tugged at her wet locks of fiery hair, splashing my feet with even _more_ water.

"Yeah, y'know, I actually caught that one, but thanks, Liz." The picnic tables had vanished beyond the silver wall of water.

"Uh…could one of you guys move over a little more?" Shay was half-out of the covered section. I grabbed his elbow and pulled him in. After a little scuffling, the three of us got into the most comfortable arrangement that we could, given the limited amount of space.

"Eugh." Shay gave a hopeless look to the rain. "Doesn't look like this is gonna stop anytime soon."

"So, what exactly do you do when stuck inside a playground for God knows how long?" I threw a baleful glare at the red-and-white McDonald's bags winking through the rain.

"Well…" Lizzy tilted her head to the side. She gasped softly, and I could imagine a light-bulb dinging over her head. "Ahh!" She dug in her purse, elbowing me unintentionally, and pulled out a ring of mini-Sharpies. "We draw! Or write, or whatever."

"You mean like…graffiti?" Shay's eyes lit up at the last word, and his mouth twisted into a mischievous smirk.

"Yep!" Lizzy handed Shay a green Sharpie, and me a purple one. She uncapped the orange, shuffled around so that she was facing the castle wall, and began drawing.

I looked at the Sharpie in my hand and shrugged. It's not like there were cameras in a kids' playground. We might as well leave our mark.

I wrote some lyrics from a song that had been stuck in my head all day: "_Throw it away, forget yesterday! We'll make the great escape. –Boys Like Girls_".

Give me infinite.

Flash.

It took a while after the rain cleared for us to realize that it had stopped.

"Okay—let's admire our work," Lizzy said when it finally came time to leave. She beamed at the castle tower, pleased with our (slightly illegal)masterpiece.

Shay pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket and snapped a few pictures. Lizzy had doodled flowers across the wall. Shay had written "_Except for when they like boys_" under my "_Boys Like Girls_". Both of us had covered the wall with whatever lyrics popped into our heads.

None of us really wanted to leave, I don't think. We didn't want to abandon the carefree world that we had created.

But like most good things, this had to come to an end—I heard voices and footsteps coming up the path, coming closer to us. Lizzy motioned for us to follow her through the castle, away from the voices. We set off on a dead sprint toward the car as soon as we hit the ground, slipping and sliding over the wet grass.

We collapsed into the car and slammed the doors. I wouldn't have been surprised if whoever was at the park could hear us laughing.

Give me dorky.

Flash.

* * *

Shay disappeared into the break room a little while later, leaving Lizzy and I alone with Ty. All of us were quiet, waiting to make sure Shay didn't come back before talking.

"You two have a revenge plot, right?" Ty asked softly. His expression was carefully blank.

I met Lizzy's eyes and frowned slightly.

She shrugged in a "What can you do?" sort of manner.

We both nodded at Ty. "I want in," he said. "And don't say no, because I'm helping either way."

"Why?"

"Because she got me to screw up the best thing I've ever had going for me." The flames that entered his eyes as he said this were enough to make _me_ shudder.

"All right, you're in," I said, after confirming with Lizzy through a series of nods and shrugs. "I guess you've got an idea then, right?"

"Oh, yeah…I've got a few things." A slow grin stretched across his face.

Give me evil.

Flash.

Give me insidious.

Flash.

Give me just what we needed.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: Woot! There's your chapter. :) I hope you liked it!


	25. In Which Vengence is Sweet

A/N: Hey, everyone! Woot, I'm almost on-time for once! Anyway. I hope this chapter is good enough revenge for you guys. You just have to keep in mind that Jude, Ty, and Lizzy can't do anything terrible enough to her that they would get arrested/kicked out of school, ha.

Note2: I'm not listening to anything at the moment, but I have "You're the One That I Want" from Grease stuck in my head for some reason. Ughhh.

* * *

_Chapter Twenty-five  
_"_In Which Vengeance is Sweet"_

You know, some people say that living well is the best revenge. I say that those people have never experienced the thrill of slapping someone back. Because, really—what is Karma going to care if I end up living in a mansion with a perfect husband and our 1.6 children? On the other side—we strike back now, and she runs back where she came from, tail between her legs.

It's pretty obvious what path Lizzy and I took. No one messes with Shay and gets away with it. Ever.

This philosophy is what led The Revenge Party to the dormitories on campus—where Satan herself dwelled.

Ironic moment of the day: Guess who should have been living in this very dorm room? Oh, yeah, you guessed it—moi. Aren't coincidences like that just fun?

Anyway. It turns out that having Ty on our mission was probably the best thing that could have happened to us. He just-so-happened to know perfect info…like, that Karma worked at a Hollister at the more expensive mall after her morning classes, so she wouldn't be here. Or that she didn't get along with her roommate…at all. Which definitely worked to our advantage.

A small, sleepy looking black girl opened the door at the dorm room and studied us in confusion. "Karma's not here," she said slowly.

"That's…kind of the point," Ty said cautiously.

"Sorry, I'm not up for whatever you're wanting," the girl said, frowning. "Banging random strangers is Karma's thing."

The back of Ty's neck flushed red. I'm not sure if it was more out of anger or embarrassment. "That's, um, not what we're here for," he said uncomfortably.

"Wait—are you that Shane kid?" She studied him curiously.

"Um," Ty said, as I corrected, _"Shay."_

She opened the door wider and stepped back to let us in. "Come on, I've been wanting to talk to you."

"I'm, um, I'm not Shay," Ty said, hesitating. Of course his dang good morals wouldn't let him lie for a few minutes. Jeez. "He's my…friend." The last word was said tonelessly.

"You're wanting to get back at Karma for whatever it is she did to him?"

"Yeah," I said boldly. My expression dared her to defy my thirst for vengeance.

"Well, I'm Kat, your inside source of Karma," she said. She ushered us into her small dorm room. She shut the door behind us and sat down on one of the twin beds in the room. I sat down across from her, banging my knee on the bedside table in the process. I glared at the table—and then stopped and picked up the picture frame on top of it.

The picture was a typical myspace-whore pose where you hold out the camera and snap a picture of you and a friend. It showed Shay and Karma, both about fourteen or fifteen. Shay had one arm thrown across Karma's shoulders, and the other held out with the camera. Karma had her head tilted toward his. Shay's hair was a bit lighter. His eyes were more innocent and happy than I'd ever seen them—which hurt to see. Karma had braces with pink bands. She didn't look so evil in this picture.

Maybe she wasn't Satan. Just like, his mistress. Not always evil…but definitely now smelling of fire and brimstone.

Give me wicked.

Flash.

I put the picture down. We had a mission. I needed to stay focused. "So. Kat. We have a pretty decent plan. We just need to know a few things."

"Fire away." Kat crossed one leg over the other and leaned back on her hands.

"Does she wake up easily?"

"Like, if we put something on her head, will she wake up?" Lizzy elaborated. "Something wet?"

Kat smiled, looking like she liked where this was going ."She won't wake up. You could carry her out to the roof and she wouldn't wake up."

Lizzy and Ty shared a raised-eyebrow look, obviously seeing all of the lovely little doors that this opened for us. It definitely worked to the advantage of The Plan. And though the roof idea was tempting…we had a plan to stick to.

"All right! So…here's what we need you to do, Kat…"

* * *

I guess in _some _situations, living well _is _the best revenge. Not in situations involving evil skanks—but in situations of being kicked out of your house and left to fend for yourself, living well actually works.

Case in point: Graduation day, class of 2007, where no one could have expected me to be between trying to pay rent and struggling through my classes.

I stood on the side of the stage, waiting for the principal to call my name. To give me my ticket out of here—one way, please. There were only two people left before me.

Out in the crowd, I could see Jamie's nana, watching him with a proud smile as he stood on the other side of high school. He was a stranger by this point—just someone that I had once loved as a close friend, just a past neighbor.

Possibly sensing my far-off look, Kyle caught my eyes and did a double-thumbs up. I grinned at him, glad that I had at least a few friends, a few people to cheer me on.

"Jude Harrison," the principal said, jolting me back. I strode across the stage, most of my thoughts on not falling down. (Because, man, how mortifying would _that _be?)

He held out his hand and my diploma. I clasped his hand and took the roll of paper that would set me free.

His hand was warm and sweaty—whether on his own, or from all of the nervous students who had shaken his hand in the past quarter-hour, I didn't want to know.

His smile was too practiced, too forced.

He said that he was proud of me, even though I could count on one hand how many times I had spoken to him.

Give me irrelevant.

Flash.

I didn't care. I was free. I was out of there, no regrets, no strings attached. I was a six-hour drive away from the rest of my life. Six hours away from my sanity. I said thank you and exited to the side of the stage, where I was immediately tackled by an enthusiastic Kyle, who had been cheering the whole time I was up there.

"We're outta here, Jude," he said, grinning. His voice was low enough that we weren't death-glared by the administrators. "Couple of weeks and you won't care what happened here, dude."

I just smiled, rolled my eyes, and hugged him from the side. Right now, there were things I couldn't forget.

The fact that Sadie wasn't here.

The fact that no one in my so-called family had shown up for one of the biggest landmark days of my life.

The fact that Spiederman was eyeing Monica Darcy from the other side of the stage, instead of me.

But who knew how much could leave me once I was away from the constant reminders?

Give me false hope disguised as optimism.

Flash.

* * *

Just as we were about to leave, Kat reached under Karma's mattress and held out a small book bound in plaid fabric. "It's her diary," she said needlessly, raising her eyebrows. "Might help, huh?"

She put the book in my hands and I bit my lip.

Give me moral conflict.

Flash.

I had everything that I needed in this diary. I could tear into her darkest secrets, her fears, everything I needed to rip her to pieces. Her diary, her plan book, her defenses and pretenses.

All I had to do was move the band that closed it, and let the book fall open…

But I couldn't do it.

That was too low a strike, even up against her. Even though she deserved it, I just couldn't make myself. I handed it back to Kat, shaking my head wordlessly. She shrugged and shoved it back under the mattress. "Whatever. See you guys tonight." She hesitated for a moment and then added, "Um, Jude? Sorry I switched your dorm out. Someone else was supposed to be here…but they never came, and I got stuck with…well. Sorry."

My eyes caught the picture of Shay and Karma again, and I smiled warmly. "Nah, don't be."

* * *

Just for the record, Hot Topic pretty much rules for their neon-colored hair dye. And Ty's pretty amazing for knowing that Karma has always sworn off hair dye of any kind because she has some psycho phobia of roots. (I have no idea why something like that would come up in conversation, so don't ask.)

We pooled our money together and purchased hot pink, orange, neon green, and electric blue. I was sure that they'd look just _adorable _all layered together.

Melanie was wearing a "Karma's A Btch" shirt when we went to check out. "Dude, I like your thoughts," she snickered as she scanned the hair dye. "Seriously, I need pictures of this girl when you're done with her."

"Oh, the joys of myspace," Lizzy replied in a sing-song voice. "Trust me, we'll have tons of pics up."

Melanie handed me the bag. "Have fun, kiddies."

Ty took the bag from me while we walked out of the store. "Lizzy, you must've been a pretty demented child to think this up," he commented.

Lizzy looked flattered. "I've always had criminal mastermind on my career list."

Ty laughed slightly. "You're crazy."

"Well, what kind of kid were _you?_" Lizzy folded her arms.

Give me indignant.

Flash.

Ty didn't miss a beat before grinning at her and responding, "The kind that stuck paperclips in light sockets."

"That explains…_so _much," I teased.

Little moments like these, it was easy to forget that we were on a mission against Satan's mistress. We were just a group of college kids goofing off. Of course, after tonight, we would be a step closer to going back to being a bigger, not-so-awkward group of college kids goofing off.

Give me hope.

Flash.

* * *

"Shh! Ty! Tell me that was not just you that tripped over the garbage can!" I hissed in the dorm parking lot that night—or, specifically, very, very early the next morning.

"Eh…guilty as charged," Ty whispered sheepishly. "Sorry."

The three of us were decked out in black from head to toe. Lizzy and I were wearing black knit caps over our pigtail-braids. Officially, we were trying to blend in and not be noticed. (Really, we just thought it added to the spy theme we had going for us, and it felt cool.)

Our plan had been to sneak in quietly, paint the multi-colored dye onto Karma's head, take pictures, and sneak out, on to Phase Two. But the "sneaking" part was not going so well, seeing as Ty was a total klutz. He'd already managed to trip up the curb and over a trashcan. (Not even one of those little dinky indoor ones, either. One of the huge ones that was almost as tall as Lizzy.)

"Ty? How about you start with Phase Two?" Lizzy suggested. "I don't know if we're gonna have to run for it or not, so we could get more done if you start now."

Ty shrugged, and in the beams from the street slight, I could see that he look vaguely disappointed. He took the needed supplies from Lizzy and walked back toward the car…which was strategically parked right next to Karma's.

"Okay, let's do this," I said, grinning at Lizzy. The excitement and nervousness I was feeling sparked back at me in her eyes.

We slunk through the dormitory, finally ending up at Kat and Karma's room. By my watch, it was 4:59 on Wednesday morning. Kat should be opening the door in less than a minute.

Too many emotions to name were twisting in my stomach.

I guess I wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do. Don't get me wrong—Karma deserved much worse than what we were giving her. (Revenge is limited when you can't break laws or get thrown out of school.) I just kept seeing that picture of her and Shay in my mind, and wondering what could have _possibly _caused her to hate him so much, when they had been so close.

That small, pitying part of me was followed by anger over everything she'd put Shay through. Shay _and _Ty. If it weren't for her and her slutty ways, the two of them wouldn't always have that hint of sadness behind their smiles. If it weren't for her, Shay would still have his family. And I would still have my surrogate family. Remembering all of this caused my blood to boil all over again, pushing the guilt out as steam.

Kat opened the door at exactly five AM, just like we'd planned. She let us into the darkened room, and we silently walked over to the bed we'd sat on earlier. I pulled my camera out as Lizzy began uncapping the first bottle of hair dye.

Karma was asleep, facing away from us—meaning that the majority of her dark hair was within easy reach. Lizzy pulled on a pair of latex gloves that she'd snatched from the supply closet at work, and got started on painting hot pink dye onto Karma's hair. I dutifully snapped pictures, hoping that there was enough light coming through the windows that the pictures would show up after some photoshopping, even though I wasn't using the flash.

Five minutes passed, and Lizzy capped the pink and reached for the orange.

I snapped pictures.

I don't think Lizzy was really paying any attention to where she was painting the dye onto—she was just applying it in large clumps, overlapping the dye that was already there. The more disgusting her hair looked, the better, I guess.

Give me destruction.

Flash.

Lizzy capped the orange and reached for the green. I realized that it was going to look like someone had vomited on Karma's head. Except a bit more permanent. And a lot less rank.

Kat was watching with an amused smirk. I didn't feel like asking why she was so ready to help us. I guess Karma just wasn't a very charming person. Other than to guys she wanted to screw around with. Slut.

Lizzy reached for the blue, but nearly dropped it when a car alarm in the parking lot started blaring. Lizzy looked down at Karma, who had shifted and groaned slightly. Lizzy mouthed a string of four-letter words. She started shoving the bottles of dye back into her bag. I capped the blue and threw it in there as well. Kat ducked under the covers on her bed, feigning innocence. Lizzy and I bolted. I made sure to shut the door quietly.

Both of us were breathless with laughter when we got out to the parking lot. It was Ty's car alarm that had gone off—he was now sitting the driver's seat with an odd expression.

Give me panicked.

Flash.

Give me accomplished.

Flash.

Next to his car, Karma's car was tightly wrapped in toilet paper—enough that you could barely see the maroon paint underneath. When she pulled it off in the morning, she would find that someone had taken car-chalk to it so that the words _Karma's A Btch _were collaged across it, _Riot! _style.

I swapped with Lizzy—my camera for a big black marker from her bag. As Lizzy hurried to get into the car, I wrote across the toilet paper: "_Go home, whore!"_

A mind-numbing shriek pierced the night air, and my revenge-sweetened smile came back, full watts. I ducked into Ty's car, grabbed my camera from Lizzy, and took a picture of Karma's car. Then, it was back into Ty's car, and we hauled out of there before Karma could come screaming out of the building.

Give me extreme satisfaction.

Flash.

* * *

I saw Karma the next day. We were closing up at Morgans' when she burst through the doors. Her hair was tucked up into a hat…meaning she obviously hadn't gotten around to dying it a normal color.

I've never seen someone so livid. "You—!" Her words morphed into a half-snarl, half-scream. She pointed a shaking, manicured nail in my face.

Somehow, I managed to contain my amusement behind a confused expression. "What am I being accused of, exactly?" I asked.

Give me bored.

Flash.

"You—my _hair! _My _car!_" Fury was rolling off of her in waves. _"Why?" _Her voice cracked.

Shay gave me a wide-eyed look. (Did I mention that our revenge plot had not been, um, disclosed with him?)

"What are you _talking _about?" Lizzy questioned, looking baffled.

Karma pulled her hat off of her head, letting her hair fall out. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Shay cringe. Lizzy's eyes widened at the monstrosity that was in front of us. She'd done an even better job than we'd hoped for. Or worse, depending on how you look at it.

Give me pleasantly disgusted.

Flash.

Her glossed bottom lip was quivering. She was breathing heavily, and her eyes were red along the edges. "You…" Her eyes landed on Shay, who was watching the scene with a slightly agape jaw. "I didn't even…" She shook her head, turned around, and walked away.

To my disbelief, Shay struggle to stand with his crutches, and went after her. "Karma—wait."

Lizzy and I were left in a confused silence. After a few moments, I broke the quiet. "Liz…why did he do that?"

Give me total confusion.

* * *

When Shay came back, around ten minutes later, he looked dumbstruck. He stood in the doorway, studying us. After a few moments, he sighed. "That was, um…"

"Awesome?" Lizzy offered.

"Sweet?" I suggested.

"Really…really not cool," he finished.

Give me disappointment.

Flash.

"I mean," he said. "I think I…um, understand it now." Even as he said this, the confusion on his face deepened. "And I know you guys…meant well, but…"

I tried to feel guilty about Karma, but I couldn't. Maybe if Shay would tell me what had just happened, how she had seemingly just redeemed herself, then maybe I could. But he wasn't elaborating, and I wasn't going to force it out of him. So the only guilt I had was for making Shay sad—making him see a slightly more cruel side to me.

"Sorry, Shay," I said, honest enough that he could see. "We just…wanted to give you something to laugh about."

He smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile. "It's okay…and besides…you couldn't have known that she flips when it comes to hair dye. Um…bad experience as a kid."

Lizzy and I avoided eye contact.

Give me revenge.

Flash.

Give me intended justice.

Flash.

Give me backfired plans.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: Woo! End of chapter. If you're wondering what happened with Shay and Karma…well, you'll find out in a few chapters. It kind of explains why Karma got so vicious toward him, better than what he had thought. Anyway—next chapter is the big unveiling of the project! I'm nervous to see what you guys will think. ;)


	26. In Which Jude Comes Clean

A/N: Hola guys! I don't have anything even semi-witty to say right now, so I'm just gonna jump right into the chapter.

Disclaimer: I referenced a series of pictures on phobias. The idea and the beautiful photography involved in the set belong to Lara Jade. You can find her on flickr or as larafaerie on deviantART. Her stuff is really awesome.

Note2: I don't know what I'm listening to right now. It's kind of cool though. It's on the radio.

* * *

_Chapter Twenty-six  
_"_In Which Jude Comes Clean"_

I've always loved the spring. I mean, what's there to dislike? Flowers are blooming, it's not freezing or muggy, and it's nice outside almost all the time.

The only downside I can think of is that it marks the end of the school year—meaning way too many exams to study for, and too many projects to turn in.

Okay, well, one project. But it might as well have been a million.

I had spent a couple of hours up at the school, using one of the printers in the photo-lab to get a hard copy of my pictures. The photo paper alone had cost me almost a month's pay, and that combined with our revenge plot meant that I'd be pretty behind on everything for a while But still, for some reason, I was cheerful.

Give me carefully carefree.

Flash.

The nice weather had a good effect on everyone. Shay seemed to be smiling more, joking more—other than just every once in a while. More than a few times, I caught him humming or singing randomly, happily. Maybe that was why I was so happy. Or maybe it was knowing that I was finally about to come clean to Tommy about the project—tonight, in fact.

"Panic! At the Disco or Lily Allen?" I asked Lizzy. I was standing in her room, in front of her full-length mirror, holding up two t-shirts.

"Hmm," Lizzy said thoughtfully. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, studying the choices. "Go with Lily. Panic could give off a hippie vibe. Lily will give off that sexy snarky girl thing you're gonna want."

"What did I ever do without you?" I joked, flopping down next to her.

"Same as you do now," Lizzy said matter-of-factly, "just with less style."

I shoved her playfully, and she did the same. This started a mini-pushing war that slowly progressed onto a new level—a level with a need for weapons. I grabbed one of the pink pillows off the bed and beamed her on the head with it.

"Oh, it's on, stalkarazzi-girl!" Lizzy bounced to the floor, grabbed another pillow, and aimed to strike. I dropped back to the floor and ran out into the living room.

Shay—who had gotten his cast replaced with a walking cast—was sitting at the table, working on some paper for his English Lit class. He looked up in surprise as Lizzy and I came shrieking past, beating each other with pillows.

Give me oh-so-mature.

Flash.

Lizzy and I beat at each other until we were nothing but a giggling, flailing pile on the floor. "Jude," Lizzy sighed through her giggles. "Here we are, two hot girls in skanky pajamas, fighting and half-on top of each other—and with no one to appreciate us except someone who likes boys!" She stuck her tongue out at Shay when he gave her an open-mouthed look of faux-indignation.

"Psh," was his witty comeback. After a second, he followed it with, "You know you love me for it."

"Of course," Lizzy replied, sitting up. Her face was pink and bright with glee. "You're fierce. But sometimes, girls like to be slutty, and it's not so fun when your only audience is not interested."

"Well, since Jude should be, uh, slutting with Tommy at the art gallery in like, an hour, I think you'll live," Shay teased. He studied me for a second. "You ready for this, Jude-girl?"

I hopped to my feet, unconcerned. "Completely," I said, smiling. I'd gotten over my nerves—I had decided that Tommy loved me, and nothing was going to change that. He might be really surprised by my project, but he'd understand that I was just doing what I had to do. I had nothing to worry about. "I'm gonna go get dressed, kay? No worries, this is going to go fine."

I hurried back to my room before I could see if they agreed or not.

* * *

You know what? It is so not fun getting off work early if you can't go home. Especially when the reason that you can't is because you have to avoid your vulture of a landlord.

Liam Fenway is not exactly who I would call _Scrooge…_mostly because Scrooge changed, and I can't see Liam becoming any less greedy. He got off on cutting peoples' power or water when the rent was late. And by "peoples'" I, of course, mean _mine._

Also, he didn't find it amusing when Wally and Kyle had attempted to get everyone to sing "Rent" out on the fire escapes.

Point: I had to sneak into my apartment when Liam left to go have a drink, or whatever it is middle-aged Irish men do. Until then, I had to camp out behind the electricity box.

The whole problem with Liam is really that I don't have my rent for him yet…from last month. Or this month, but I think last month's is what's hacking him off.

"I believe that you can drop off your rent at the front office," a voice with a stuffy accent said from behind me.

I jumped a good six feet, and then attempted to regain composure. "Oh, ha, Liam, nice to see," I said with a nervous false laugh. I stood up straight and smoothed down my hair with my hand. "I'm just getting some, uh, rocks for my bio class."

"They teach biology to seniors," he said flatly, obviously not believing me.

"Um. Yes," I said, biting my lip. I looked slightly to the left of him, and then sighed. "I don't have it yet. I get paid tomorrow, and I'll have it then, okay?" I smiled brightly, waved, and started walking away.

"Miss Harrison." He sounded annoyed, yet slightly amused. "You left your, ah, rocks."

* * *

I met Tommy at an art gallery downtown. The school had rented the place out for the next week, allowing the art and photography students to show their portfolios. It was the first time I'd been able to showcase my work like this, and Tommy was happy to go with me. (Shay and Lizzy had agreed to come later, so I would have time to break the news about the project.)

I was wearing a black Lily Allen t-shirt, along with a jean skirt that I'd borrowed from Lizzy. I topped off the look with my "hooker boots" (thanks, Shay) and a carefully messy ponytail. Lizzy had described it as sexy, snarky artist, and Shay had just said that I looked gorgeous as usual.

"Excuse me, miss," Tommy said, coming up from behind me. I smiled and turned as he continued, "I'm looking for my girlfriend…She's about this tall…" He put his hand lightly on top of my head. "She's got these big blue eyes…and she has the weirdest reaction to 'Hey Jude'. Seen her anywhere?"

I put my hands flat on his chest and stood on my toes to kiss him. He put his hands on the small of my back. When we broke apart, Tommy smiling, touching his forehead to mine. "Guess I found her," he smirked in a playfully soft tone.

"Guess so," I replied, biting down on my lip and looking at him from underneath my eyelashes. "Now come on, we're here for a reason, boybander."

"Lead the way, big eyes." He took my hand and allowed me to pull him into the building and near the back, where my portfolio was being displayed. It started off with my other projects from the year—most using Shay and Lizzy as models. The big project was at the far end of the display, out of sight for the moment.

"We were supposed to express certain emotions in these," I explained, gesturing to several pictures of Shay from early this school year. Shay made a great model for this one—he had such a tendency to keep his heart on his sleeve, and because of this, the expressions I needed came across beautifully.

That and the fact that Shay was adorable. But, y'know.

"Let me guess—jealousy." Tommy pointed to the first, and I nodded, smiling. Encouraged, he continued. "Happiness? Yeah? …Annoyance, maybe? Um…tired. No, no, _fatigue _is the art word, right?" I beamed at him, thrilled that everything had come across so clearly. He gave me an impish smile. "What can I say, girl? You're good at what you do." He gave a suggestive wink, and I whapped him on the shoulder.

_"These ones," _I said loudly, ignoring his snickers, "are supposed to represent different phobias." One of these included a close-up of Lizzy's eye, profile view. A needle was held so that the point was less than an inch from her pupil.

We went on like this, me pointing out what the assignment had been and Tommy giving his thoughts and opinions, until we got right up to the final project.

Give me last chances.

Flash.

"This one…" My voice trailed off, and it took me a second to remember the speech I'd prepared. I snapped myself back to reality. "Well…at the beginning of the year, we were given a subject to take candid shots of throughout the semester…and I got…you." The last word was barely uttered. I had turned to watch his expression.

The easy smile that had been on his features had faded. His mouth had opened slightly as he took in all of the pictures, all of my hard work from the past eight months.

The half-confused, half-horrified look in his eyes froze my cheerful smile in place. _It's just shock, _I assured myself. _He'll get over it in a second._

Give me false hope.

Flash.

His hand loosened from mine and he pulled away. My smile shattered. _This is not happening. It can't be. I won't freaking let it._

The eyes that had looked at me lovingly only moments before now looked at me in a new way.

Give me distrust.

Flash.

Give me anger.

Flash.

Give me barely masked hysteria.

Flash.

"Is that all I was?" Despite his expression, his voice was calm, steady. "A project?"

I was the opposite of calm and steady. This may have been due to the hysteric voice in my head screaming, _Don't lose him! Don't let this one go, dmmit! _"No, no, Tommy, of course not!" The indignation I would normally feel at his accusation was overshadowed with panic.

"But that's how it started? And you've been…following me around with a camera?" The calm was becoming strained.

I clamped my mouth shut, not trusting my vocal chords when I felt like screaming. I hesitantly nodded. I didn't say that, technically, we'd started because my best friend had a boycrush on one of his best friends.

"The entire time," he continued. I nodded again. "This whole time, you've been lying to me?"

It wasn't a lie. He'd never asked me if I was stalking him. It was more of a truth-omission. I didn't think it was a good time to point this out. I said nothing. I guess I was just praying that I was wrong about what was coming.

"And—and if you've been lying to me, then how can I trust you, Jude?" Anger and betrayal had seeped into his tone.

In my mind, I was screaming and pleading to whatever higher power is up there to _please _not take him from me.

"And if I can't trust you…" His voice was soft now. He hesitated, searching my eyes and then looking back to the wall of photographs.

For a moment, it looked like my prayers had been answered. But then he tugged a hand through his spiked hair and sighed heavily through his nose. "If I can't trust you, then how can I be with you?"

My heart dropped into my stomach, which promptly fell to the floor. "Tommy, I love you," I said, my words rushed and urgent.

"But how do I believe that, Jude?" I could see the inner turmoil in his eyes. "I can't…and I just…I can't do this."

He couldn't mean it like that. "You're…breaking…up…with…me?" Every word felt foreign.

"Yeah…yeah, I am." His voice was barely audible, but it was the only thing I heard, echoing against the sides of my brain; playing again and again.

He paused, and his hand lifted as if to touch me, but he dropped it. "Goodbye, Jude." And then he walked away, leaving me too shocked and broken to run after him.

Give me bitter endings.

Flash.

* * *

"The fish? Oh, spare me, Wally," I groaned. I was at work, definitely well-into overtime. Wally and Kyle were bumming around the ice cream shop. You know, since me in the horrendous uniform wasn't humiliating enough without my friends there to witness it.

"But I want to be a marine-biologist," my slightly-ditzy friend replied, taking a bite out of his Phish Food ice cream. "And if I'm going to do that, I shouldn't eat the fish. Cuz, dude, that's like eating my future."

"Kyle, what do you call someone who doesn't eat fish?" I questioned.

Kyle, who had long finished his Half-Baked, shrugged. "Hungry?"

"I'm not eating the fish," Wally repeated.

Give me stubborn.

Flash.

"Wally. They're marshmallows. I don't think it's going to kill your future to eat them." I shook my head at him.

It was a pretty slow day at the ice cream shop. The boss had permitted me to talk with my friends as long as they bought something and got out of the way when I had customers. I was the only person working this shift—mostly because I'd begged for it. I needed the extra cash desperately. I was barely staying in my apartment, and had already dipped way too far into my college money.

"So, when do you get off, dude?" Kyle asked before shooting his empty paper bowl into one of the trashcans.

"Um, like, ten, I think?" I picked up a paper-towel and started cleaning the already spotless counter.

"Whaaat? You've been here since like, eight!" Wally protested.

"Yeah, and didn't you want to watch House?" Kyle added.

"Guys, I have to have rent money," I reminded them. "And I don't have a TV. I had to sell it last month."

"You know there's probably some grant or something you could get to pay this stuff for you." The concern in Kyle's voice was touching. "You don't have to work so hard."

Give me brother-like.

Flash.

"I've applied, and they said they'd get back to me in six to eight weeks."

"Good," Kyle said, brightening. "Anyway…you've been working so much that we've been wondering—"

"—If we'd lost our Red," Wally cut in, grinning.

"Guys," I said with a half-laugh. "You haven't lost me, dorks."

After a while, they had to leave, and they did so cheerfully; glad that I was getting help.

Yeah, okay, I hadn't been totally honest. I had mailed in an application, and I had gotten a response telling me to wait six to eight weeks. I'd just gotten that four months ago, with no news since.

…But Wally and Kyle didn't need to know that.

Give me ignorance.

Flash.

Give me bliss.

Flash.

* * *

I made it home by some miracle. I was so numb that my brain had gone on autopilot to make sure I didn't hit any cars. Or motorcyclists.

I opened the front door and walked in. The first thing I noticed was Shay sitting on the couch, laptop casting a blue light onto him, illuminating his look of deep concentration. He looked up when he heard my keys clatter on the counter.

I guess I looked pretty bad, because he hopefully asked, "Bad traffic?"

I walked over and dropped down onto the couch, curling up to him. "He broke up with me." My voice sounded flat to my own ears.

Shay swore lightly and moved his laptop onto the coffee table. He automatically hugged me close. "It's going to be okay, Jude-girl."

_No, it won't. I need him. _I don't know if I said the words out loud. I just clung to Shay like a lifeboat and let the tears fall.

Give me desolate.

Flash.

Give me abandoned.

Flash.

Give me heart-wrenching pain.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: Unbunch your panties, kiddos. We've still got four more chapters to go, so don't flip on me yet. Shay's telling the story next chapter. ;) Thanks for reading. (Insert less than 3 heart here.)


	27. In Which Friends Can Be Confusing

A/N: GUYS! I am so sorry that this took so long! Ack. I just kind of got sidetracked and kept pushing it off. :X Anyway, this chapter is in Shay's POV. I hope you guys like it. :3

Note2: I'm currently listening to "Where Are You Going" by Dave Matthews Band. I'm singing it in voice lessons right now, so it's in my head. It's pretty awesome (minus the cheesy instrumental in the middle) so check it out. :)

* * *

_Chapter Twenty-seven  
_"_In Which Friends Can Be Confusing" _

Well, sht.

I don't even know what to say other than that. Just, fck.

Jude was a mess. It had been two days since Tommy dumped her, and she had barely come out of her room. She'd even been skipping her classes—which was completely un-Jude-like. Tommy had really messed her up. And trust me, I definitely wasn't cool with that. Jude was my best friend, and she was just too good to have stuff like this happen to her.

Give me unjustified.

Flash.

Lizzy had forced me to promise to just let it go. She said that it would end up hurting Jude more if I didn't. I had a feeling that her deal came from the whole Karma-Revenge-Plot. (Which I could rant on, except I won't. Partly because it's hard to think about, and partly because I'm so freaking tired of this high school drama. I mean, dmn.)

Anyway. Lizzy and I had a new mission, and that was to bring Jude back to the world of the living. Even if that world sucks limes and sometimes it's safer to just hide from everything.

Still. Risks are worth it.

And thus, we are planning on taking Jude out to 620 to see Wally and Kyle, because she needs a dosage of SME.

Give me doctor's orders.

Flash.

* * *

"Kar! Kar, wait up!" I jogged through the crowded hall of our middle school, knocking into people—mostly sixth or seventh graders, who were scowling at me. (I didn't actually mean to run into them. They could seriously put their dagger-eyes up. Jeez.)

Karma, my best friend since…well, ever, turned around when I caught up to her. By this point, she was at her locker. The smile slid off my face when I caught her expression. "Karma, what happened?"

Give me concern.

Flash.

Her eyes were bright and red with tears that she was fighting. She was wearing a hat, and a few strands of hair fell out of it. She tugged a lock of hair down from the hat and waited for my reaction.

Instead of her normal dark brown, the lock of hair was jet black. Which didn't really make sense, because Karma loved her hair. "Why'd you dye it?" I asked, confusion obvious in my tone.

Karma rolled her watery eyes as if I was completely missing the point. Which, admittedly, I probably was. I'm not too great at guessing games. "_I _didn't. It was _Her._"

_"Her" _was code for Karma's stepsister. Her mom had recently gotten remarried, which brought a third kid into Karma's house. Her stepsister was almost seventeen, and specialized in black lipstick and books on Satanism. She freaked me out, and _I _wasn't even the one forced to share a room with her.

And so then, I understood the point that I'd missed. "Why? And how?"

"She wanted to paint our room black," Karma said, frustration bubbling up under her flat tone. "But I didn't, so mom and Chet wouldn't let her. So she dyed my hair black instead. While I was sleeping."

I don't think you could find a person on earth who wouldn't feel bad when they saw the hurt look on Karma's face. It was enough to make me want to fix everything so that I wouldn't have to see her so miserable again.

Unfortunately, her story wasn't finished. "And then, in the locker room, Stacey called me a goth freak, and she said she wasn't going to talk to me again." Her voice cracked, and she took a second to force back tears. Stacey was one of Karma's friends—her best friend after me, she said. I'd never really liked her, but I didn't ever mention that. "She got everyone to throw basketballs at me all period." She sniffled, wiping gently at the inner corners of her eyes.

I didn't really know what to say. It really made me mad that people were such jerks to Karma when she was so nice. "I'm sorry, Kar," is all I came up with.

The one-minute bell rang, and Karma nodded and then hurried off to her next class, not bothering to get her books.

I stood there for a moment, biting my lip, before I got an idea.

I was going to spend the next class figuring out how to get my hands on some black hair dye. Because there was no reason that Karma should have to deal with this on her own, right?

* * *

"Shay, where's Jude?" Lizzy's voice carried an air of urgency.

Give me slight hysteria.

Flash.

"Um, probably in bed, sleeping. Like a normal person." I added the last bit with a yawn.

"One, it's like, eight at _night, _and two, doesn't that make _you _not normal?"

I grinned innocently at her and tapped the can in my hand. "Who needs sleep when you can have Red Bull?"

"You should really get medication for that addiction, Shayla." Lizzy crossed her arms, tapping her fingernails against them. "But seriously—we gotta find Jude. _And _make sure Tommy won't be at 620 when we bring her."

I grimaced. "Yeah…that would be a mess." I gnawed at my lip for a moment. On the one hand, I could have painfully stilted conversation with my ex; on the other hand, Jude could end up running into hers. "I'll call Ty and ask him to distract Tommy. You just…check our room, okay? She's seriously probably just sleeping or something, Lizzy."

Lizzy nodded, not looking convinced. She hurried down the hall. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and hobbled over to stand by the window. I punched the 2 button and then hit talk.

Yes, Ty is still the first number on my speed-dial. I'm lazy. There's my defense.

Give me pathetic.

Flash.

I kicked at the wall absently with my clunky walking cast while the dial tone rang in my ear. I didn't really _want _to talk to Ty. It still stung to think about what he'd done. But every time I talked to him, I forgave him a little bit. I wasn't sure if I should.

He was a persistent little mofo, though, I'll give him that.

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I just about fell over when I heard Ty's voice in my ear. _"Shay?"_

I cleared my throat, trying to ignore how flustered that had left me. "Um. Hey."

I couldn't really blame him for sounding a bit shocked. I hadn't called him since March. Any time I'd talked to him, it had been because he'd called me. "Um," I said again. "Um. Well." I struggled for a hint of the easy conversations we used to have, but I couldn't get back to that. "Look…me and Lizzy were thinking about taking Jude to 620 to see Wally and Kyle, and Lizzy wanted me to ask if you could, um, distract Tommy."

_"Yeah, sure." _I could tell that he was trying to mask the disappointment in his voice, but it didn't really work. _"Uh, how is she, anyway?"_

Lizzy came back into the room, wailing, "Shay! I can't find her!"

Sht. All right, now I could freak. "Um, not good," I said quickly into the phone. "Really, really bad, actually. I've, um, I've gotta go, Ty."

_"Okay…um, if I see her, I'll call."_

"Thanks—bye." _Click. _Okay, so yeah, that was kind of rude, but I had bigger things to worry about. "Jude?" I called loudly. "Jude-girl?"

Silence.

"I tried that," Lizzy stated, sounding more scared than snotty. "She's _not _here."

"The car's still here, right?" I asked. I didn't wait for an answer, just looked out the window again—and saw that both my car and Lizzy's car were in the driveway. "Yeah—_sht, _she couldn't have gone anywhere, so where is she?"

"I'm gonna try calling her," Lizzy said, sounding close to tears. I tossed her my phone and went to search the house.

Give me lost.

Flash.

* * *

_"Shane Morgans, stop right there!" _

I froze mid-step, adopting a sheepish look. From the sound of it, Ma had noticed my, um, different hair color. Which meant that I was in for it. But whatever I got, I'm pretty sure it would be worth it.

If you're wondering how I managed to get hair dye when I can't drive—well, sorry. The most I can say is that I have my, ah, sources. Though I'd had to gain these sources through a lot of begging. ...They were sources nonetheless.

"Explain," Ma said, exasperation clear on her face.

"Um," I said, giving her a cringing smile. "Well. You know."

Ma crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at me, her expression carefully devoid of amusement. "No, I really don't. Fill me in."

"Um."

So in hindsight, maybe I should've explained the situation _before _doing something stupid like this. The way I see this going, I'm pretty much screwed—especially when my dad gets home. But at least maybe it would make Karma feel better.

The doorbell rang from behind me, startling both of us. I took the distraction as one of those life-saving moments and hurried to open the door.

Karma was standing there. "Hi," she said. "I'm sorry about…" She trailed off as she noticed that my hair wasn't just darker from the shadows. "Ohh, you didn't!"

For a fleeting second, I thought she was mad about it. But then she threw herself at me with such a force that both of us stumbled into the house. I hugged her back, laughing slightly.

Give me thankful.

Flash.

Over Karma's shoulder, I peeked at Ma's reaction. Her expression had softened when she realized what was going on. She smiled, rolling her eyes, and walked off.

I guess maybe I wasn't in for it after all.

* * *

Our house has a back porch, but I don't think any of us have ever really used it. The furniture from the previous owners was still there—mismatched lawn chairs in varying conditions. There was really only a view of our weird neighbor, so we'd always just stuck to the front porch.

That would be why the back porch was the last place I checked. Well. That and the fact that I found Jude there, so there wasn't really a point in checking anywhere else.

She was curled up in one of the chairs, facing away from the back door. Her hands were clutched around a beat-up, silver Walkman. Which explained why she hadn't heard us shouting for her.

She was alive, in one piece, and not in a ditch, though, so I was good.

Give me relief.

Flash.

I stood there for a moment, wondering if I should go over or leave her alone. She made the decision for me by looking over and giving me an almost imperceptible smile. I hobbled over and sat down next to her. She pulled her headphones from her ears, looking reluctant.

Out of all the things I needed to say, all of the questions I could have asked, I chose, "What're you listening to?"

I watched as she hesitated, and then sighed. "The recording of the song…_he _wrote for me," she said quietly. "For Christmas."

We're a lot alike, me and Jude. People always joke about it, but they don't know how deep the similarities run. Like now—Jude with her CD, me with the ring-on-a-chain that had never been moved from around my neck. Both of us pathetically clinging to things that had been so good, things that had ended too suddenly for either of us to easily adjust.

"Jude-girl," I said softly. "He's not worth it. If he couldn't even listen to what you had to say…"

"But that's the thing, Shay—he _did _listen to me," Jude said, cutting me off. "He heard me out. He paid attention. But he doesn't…he doesn't trust me anymore. And why _should _he? I _lied _to him for _months!"_

"No," I protested. "You weren't lying. You just didn't tell him."

"But I _should have!" _I noticed that her voice was choked, and in the faint light, her eyes were shining.

"But you _couldn't. _You would have failed the assignment, and the class, and then you would've been screwed."

She didn't have an argument for that one.

Give me stony silence.

Flash.

Both of us were silent for a few moments, staring aimlessly into the yard.

"It hurts," she said, just as the silence was becoming unbearable.

"I know," I replied. The silence that followed made me realize that I needed to say something else. "But it gets better every day."

It was a lie, but I have a feeling that Jude would agree that sometimes, you had to lie to keep people happy.

"It just feels like it's getting worse," she commented, tone flat.

"Give it a few weeks. Then it'll be summer, and everyone will be gone, and we'll both be okay."

"Are you going to be gone?" She looked so hurt and lost as she asked this. If I hadn't been planning on staying anyway, that look would have made me change my mind.

"No," I answered truthfully. I saw her relax a bit. "Nah, I don't have anywhere to go."

"Me either," she mumbled needlessly.

"Well, we've got us, and we've got Wally and Kyle. Unless they're on tour," I added as an afterthought. "But we've got us, no matter what."

Something flickered behind her eyes at this. "Yeah, no matter what." I wondered what she'd thought of that had caused her to look sad again.

"Can I ask you something?" She had changed her tone suddenly.

Give me hesitant.

Flash.

Give me determined.

Flash.

"Um, sure," I said, a little confused.

"Do you…" She paused, struggling with her words. "Do you still love him?"

I found myself tapping my fingers against my knee as I thought.

Did I still love him?

If that meant that every second, I wished things would be how they used to be, with the easy trust and how happy I was—if that meant that I felt strangely empty whenever I saw him or heard his voice, then… "Yeah," I sighed. "Yeah, I do."

"Then…maybe you should hear him out," she said, standing up. "Because I know he still loves you, and…you could still fix things, if you wanted to. Since Satan's mistress is out of the picture."

I nodded, not moving from my chair, even after I heard the door open and close. Because she was right—all of this was in my hands, and if I wanted to fix it, I could.

I just didn't know what to say, or how.

Give me brain-missing.

Flash.

And Karma being out of the picture—I could believe it. Not because of Jude and Lizzy's revenge—but because of what had happened the last time I'd seen her.

I still hadn't told anyone about that conversation. I still wasn't sure what to think of it just yet.

Give me mind-boggling.

Flash.

* * *

The differences between my eighth grade self running after Karma and my college-freshman self doing the same…well, when I think about it, it's like day and night. From best friends to enemies, strangers. From Kar to Karma, from Shane to Shay. From running to limping on crutches.

A few things had stayed the same, of course. The hair dye, for one. My concern about what had happened, as well.

I caught up to her at the end of the strip mall, where she'd stopped to flag down a taxi. "Karma, I had no idea that they were going to do that," I said honestly. "I never even mentioned the hair dye thing."

"Yeah, sure," she shot. Somehow, the tears didn't take the sharpness out of her words. "I believe _that._"

"Believe what you want, but I didn't do anything," I replied. "And I would've stopped Jude and Lizzy if I'd known."

_"Why_ do you do this?" She finally whirled to face me, her eyes bright, even in the dark.

"Do _what?" _I asked, caught off guard.

"Act so nice!"

"I'm not _acting!"_

"Why don't you hate me like your friends?" Karma demanded.

"Better question. Why do _you _hate _me?"_

There was a pause as Karma stared at me, open-mouthed. "That's what you think?" she finally responded, sounding choked. "That _I _hate _you_?"

I just looked at her.

"I don't hate you," she said after a moment.

"Then why did you do it, Karma?" For the first time, I was raising my voice at her, angry. "My parents, and now Ty? If you don't hate me, then why are you doing this?"

"I didn't know that your dad would freak like that."

"Yeah, but _I _did, and that's why I never told him," I said. "And now? I don't have a _family. _My own _father _won't acknowledge me as his _son."_

"I know," Karma replied. Another sob cut through the dark. "It was horrible to do, and I've never—I still hate myself for it."

_"Bullsht!" _I cut her off. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to calm down. When I spoke again, my voice was flat. "If you felt so _bad, _then what about Ty?"

"Not _everything I do _is meant to screw you over," Karma sneered, eyes flashing. "Did you ever think that _maybe _I'm not the heartless _btch _you pretend I am? That maybe I actually _liked _him? It was helping me to get over—" She cut herself off abruptly. "Forget it."

"Who?" I prompted.

She looked me in the eyes.

Give me lost.

Flash.

"You," she said.

Talk about a punch to the gut. _"What?" _I blurted, aghast.

"You're so _oblivious," _Karma snapped. "_Jeez_, how could you have missed it? _Everyone _knew. I _loved _you. I always did. Don't you remember how I _cried _when you came out to me?"

I stood there, gaping. Of course I remembered—she'd told me that she was just scared for me. I'd never really stopped to think about what a weak lie that had been.

…I really am oblivious. Jeez.

"And then," Karma continued. "You fell for _my brother. _Do you even get how horrible that was? Like, how much it _sucked _to have to pretend that I was okay with that?"

So, the moral of this story is that I'm the biggest jerk to ever live. Crap.

"But I did, because it made you happy," she sniffled. "But then Chaz told me that you cheated on him—"

"_He _cheated on _me—"_

"—And I got mad, okay? Because I'd gone and freaking put myself aside for once in my life, and it ended up screwing me over." She took a shaky breath, wiping at her eyes. "And I just, I just snapped, okay? It's just, when I went to talk to you, you didn't even _care _and it just made me—"

"Whoa, whoa, wait," I interrupted, shaking my head in disbelief. "I _didn't care? _I was a _mess. _How did you miss that?"

_"I don't know! _I was a stupid, self-absorbed seventeen-year-old, Shay!"

My mind was still reeling, but I had picked up on one thing. "You called me Shay."

"I—well, yeah, isn't that what people call you now?" She seemed taken aback, like I should have been shouting at her. Maybe I should've been.

"Yeah," I answered. "It is."

The two of us lapsed into silence, letting the sounds of cars on the road overtake our words.

I couldn't get over how stupid I'd been. Really—what kind of idiot doesn't realize that someone's in love with him? But then again, it was Karma…and it was so strange to think about. Gah. My brain felt like it was going to implode.

She broke the silence. "I'm not asking for forgiveness."

"That's okay. I'm not offering it," I replied simply. Harsh, but true. In all honesty—the motives behind everything didn't change what she'd done. It didn't change the fact that I couldn't go home. It made me understand her more, but it didn't change anything. There's some thing that you can't work past, no matter how close you used to be.

Give me scars.

Flash.

* * *

"C'mon, Shay, we've got SME time to catch up on," Lizzy burst when I walked back inside. Now that Jude had been found, Lizzy was back to her normal self.

Give me chipper.

Flash.

"Eh…give me sec; I'll meet you guys in the car," I said, giving Jude a meaningful look. She gave a slight smile.

"Mmkay," Lizzy shrugged. The two of them walked out. The front door banged shut behind them.

I picked up my cell from where Lizzy had left it on the counter. I hit 2 and then send, and listened to the dial tone.

This time, I wasn't caught off guard when Ty answered.

"Hey," I said. "Ty, could we…could we talk about us?"

Give me hopeful.

Flash.

Give me determined.

Flash.

Give me forgiven.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: Ah! Gosh! Finally. There is the end of the Shay POV. So, I hope that maybe you guys understand where Karma's coming from a little bit better. She really was only rude to Shay during the main parts of this because she honestly believed that he hated her—because she knew that he should. And nope, I don't think anything she said excuses what she did. At all. But at least there's a motive other than pure evil, heh. So I hope you guys liked this chapter! Thanks for reading. :)


	28. In Which Jealousy Isn't Jude's Best Look

A/N: Hey guys. :) Only two chapters left after this one! This is back to Jude's POV.

Note2: I am listening "Fragile" by Black Rain. Srsly check them out. I know I must talk about them like, every other chapter, but really. blackrainuk at myspace.

* * *

_Chapter Twenty-eight  
_"_In Which Jealousy is Not Jude's Best Look"_

Honestly, it's kind of funny how you never realize how much it sucks to be single until right after you get dumped. And of course, by "funny", I mean "morbidly depressing". And by "get dumped", I mean "have your heart ripped out and stomped on by one of the only people you've ever really loved".

But who's dwelling? Not me, that's for sure.

Give me bold-faced lies.

Flash.

Look, I know I'm being mopey. I know I'm wasting my life away by crying over Tommy. But it sucks, and I'm hurt, and I will cry as much as I want to, thank you very much. I'll try to fake happiness for Shay and Lizzy's sake, that's about it.

Lizzy and I were waiting for Shay in the car. From the look he'd given me inside, I had a feeling that something was going on in Tyla-land. I hoped it was good—one of us deserved to have a happy ending, and I'm glad it's Shay. He'd dealt with more drama in the past few years than most—even more than me. And he still managed to stay sane. So did I, but…

"Jude, you know you can talk to me, right?" Lizzy's troubled voice pulled me away from my circling thoughts. "I mean, I know Shay's great and everything…but I'm here too, if you need somebody. You don't have to, like, disappear."

I looked over at her, startled. She was studying the steering wheel, frowning. I hadn't realized that I'd scared anyone with my disappearing act. I'd just thought that they'd known where I was—especially after how at ease Shay had seemed when he'd found me. "Yeah, Liz," I finally said, recovering. "Yeah, I know. Thanks."

"And," she said, a little more enthusiastic, "if you ever need someone to help you find a guy who _doesn't _increase world-suck, then I'm here for that, too."

"Mm. I'm sick of guys for the moment," I groaned. "Maybe later."

"I'll hold you to that," she laughed.

"I know."

One of the back doors opened, scaring both of us out of our skins. "Shay!" Lizzy gasped, turning to stare at him. "Ohmygosh, what happened to _knocking?"_

Shay crashed onto the seat and shut the door. Then, he gave Lizzy a wide-eyed look. "Why? Told you I'd be out in a minute, right?"

"Why?! Shayla," Lizzy whined, stretching his nickname out to several syllables. "Me and Jude were having girl-time."

"Oh, sure, be prejudiced against my Y-chromosome," Shay said sarcastically. He was smiling, though. "Meh. Sorry. Can we go now?" He was drumming his fingers on his cast.

"What's your rush, Mr. Impatient?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

He just smiled, shaking his head.

Give me anxious.

Flash.

* * *

"Jude! Hey! Hey, Jude, wait!"

I scowled darkly at the floor, ignoring the voice shouting after me. Stupid Spiederman. He should know better than to talk to me, the jerk.

Give me sore.

Flash.

"Jude," he said, coming up right behind me. I clenched my jaw and rolled my eyes, knowing full well that he couldn't see it. He caught me by the arm.

I wrenched away from him. He wanted my attention? I'd give it to him. I whirled to face him. _"What, _Spiederman? What could _possibly _be so important that you would come and talk to me?"

He had the audacity to look taken aback by my outburst. "You, uh, you dropped this," he finally said, holding out a small journal—my diary. I snatched it back, almost on reflex.

"How do you know that it's mine?" I asked, suspicious.

He looked uncomfortable. "Well…I opened it to the first page, and that had your name on it."

Ohmygosh, what? He _opened _it?

Humiliation colored my face. "Spiederman, don't talk to me. Ever." I turned around and walked off. I pretended not to hear when he said, "What did I do _now?"_

Truth is…I was miserable. I didn't need Spiederman popping up all over the place a week after Monica Darcy Gate to remind me of this fact. Idiot. I mean, where did he get off, talking to me? And opening my diary? What a jerk.

"Hey, Jude!"

_"What?!" _I snapped around to face—Wally. Oops. "Oh. Crap, sorry. Thought you were… Never mind. What's up?"

"Are you doing anything later, dude?" he asked, looking a little nervous.

"Um, no, I don't think. Just hiding in my room." Like every other night of the past week.

Give me pathetic.

Flash.

"_Awe_some. Sneak out and come over to my place, okay? I want you to meet somebody."

I sidestepped a couple making out against the lockers. (Gag me. Get a room, idiots.) "Oh, really?" I said vaguely to Wally. "Who?"

"My girlfriend." He smiled, all teeth and happy eyes.

I should've felt good for him, but I could feel my heart sinking.

Give me selfish.

Flash.

* * *

It was oddly quiet when we got up to 620. Typically, you could hear guitars, drums, and screaming vocals the second you stepped out of the elevator. Now, nothing could be heard, other than our footsteps.

"Are they not here?" I asked. Even though I hadn't even plan on seeing the SME boys, I couldn't help but feel a bit distressed. I really _did _need the distraction, and I had already gone way too long without seeing them.

"No, they're here, I'm pretty sure," Shay answered. When he caught my expression, I saw a glint of panic in his eyes. I almost felt bad for freaking him out.

Lizzy reached the door first, and burst through without knocking. "Hey, boys," I heard her say cheerfully.

I propped the door open for Shay, who rolled his eyes but smiled slightly and hobbled in. I followed, and saw why it had been so quiet—the boys were sprawled out across the room, each with headphones in.

Wally had his trucker hat pulled over his face, and Spiederman was in his own little world, but Kyle looked up when we walked in. He waved and then signaled for us to wait a minute. Then, after a few second, he wildly air-drummed to whatever he was listening to.

Give me dramatic.

Flash.

Seeming to finish the song, Kyle pulled his headphones out and stood up. "'Sup, dudes?"

"Whatcha listening to?" Lizzy asked, bouncing over to him.

Kyle beamed, obviously very proud. "It's our CD—we finally finished. Tom and Kwest are sending it out for release now…we're getting the CDs back next Friday."

"That's awesome," I said, reaching for enthusiasm and falling short. "You guys having a release party?"

To his credit, Kyle's "no duh" expression only lasted for a moment. "Yeah. You guys should come! It's gonna be wicked."

Behind us, the door opened. I didn't have to turn around to know that it was Ty who had joined us. I'd had a feeling that he would be showing up. "Hey guys," he said to Lizzy, Kyle, and I. "Shay—um, balcony, I guess?"

Shay nodded, but then looked to me. "You gonna be okay for a minute?"

"Yes, dear, I will be fine." My eyes rolled of their own accord. "Go frolic in the land of Tyla."

"Frolic?" Shay scoffed.

Give me indignant.

Flash.

"Oh, just go," I said, forcing a laugh that I hoped sounded natural.

"We'll be back," Shay responded in a cheesy Terminator voice. That brought a genuine smile to my face, causing him to grin and readily go off with Ty. I'm pretty sure that he would've stalled until he made me smile, to assure himself that I wouldn't try to strangle myself with Kyle's headphones.

The two disappeared off to the fire escape, leaving me and Lizzy with Kyle and the other guys (both of whom were slowly rising from their music comas).

"So," Lizzy said. "Spill about the party, kid."

Give me over-eager.

Flash.

* * *

At around nine, I shoved open my window and lifted myself up and over the sill. My door had been locked to keep mom or Don from realizing that I was gone. Not that they ever did, anyway.

I lowered myself down from the window until my fingers were barely on it. From there, I was only a few inches above a small section of roof. I held onto the gutter, lowered myself down again, and dropped the last two feet. I barely made a sound. I'd long perfected my escape route.

Wally didn't live too far away. Close enough hat I didn't need to sneak my car out, anyway. His house was about midway between mine and Kyle's, so it had always been our meeting point—no matter if we were going to Kyle's or not.

The air was cool against my face as I slunk through the shadows of the neighborhood. The weather was nice, but I almost wished that it were storming, just to give me a distraction. As it was, I had too much time to think. And when you're like me, thinking can be a very dangerous action.

I guess I was just dwelling on how badly I felt. All of this anger, hurt, and betrayal inside me was threatening to boil over, and all I wanted to do was scream. But randomly screaming in the middle of the street isn't exactly the best idea.

I just didn't feel like going somewhere where I'd be surrounded by people who _weren't _miserable, but of course I had to do it anyway.

I knocked on the front door and waited for Wally to answer. His parents were on some honeymoon—their fourth or fifth—so it was just him there.

The door opened and any trace of good humor left me. "Hi, Monica," I said dully.

My arch-nemesis gave me the once over and sneered.

Typically, I would shoot out, "Don't get your face stuck like that, princess." Today, however, I said nothing.

I didn't want to deal with her. She'd done enough damage to be out of my good graces for good, and I couldn't handle being around her.

The gloating look in her eyes showed that she knew it, too.

Thankfully, Wally appeared at the top of the steps. "Jude! Sup!"

Monica glared at him for a second and then stepped back to let me in. I brushed past her and hurried up the stairs. "Hey," I said. "Is Kyle here?'

"At your service!" Kyle's voice came from down the hall.

Wally grinned at me from under the brim of his hat. "C'mon, I want you to meet Auds—and Kyle wanted to say something, too. I think."

I followed Wally silently, wondering what would happen next.

Give me dulled curiosity.

Flash.

* * *

Spiederman and Wally joined in on our conversation. Apparently, they'd all been listening to their finished CD, and came back to reality once it ended.

I was having a hard time focusing on what they were saying. Not because I wasn't interested—I was, really—but because I could see Shay and Ty from where I was standing.

Both were leaning against the railing, looking toward each other. I could see Shay's face—he was talking, and paused occasionally to listen to Ty. I watched as my best friend's expression slowly lit up.

Give me envy.

Flash.

I knew I shouldn't be jealous. I had it so much easier than Shay—being a straight girl and all. I could find someone else with ease, if I wanted to. For Shay, it was harder. I should be happy that he'd found someone so awesome.

I mean, I _was _happy for him.

But my stupid self-pity nearly drowned that out. Which, yes, did make me feel pretty crappy. I _do _have a conscience, believe it or not.

"…Would be awesome if you guys came," Spiederman was saying when I tuned back in to the conversation. "We're playing a couple shows, near home, dude," he directed to me.

Rather than ask what he was talking about, I responded, "This is home for me, Speed. I don't plan on going back to mom and Don."

"Eh…right. Sorry." He paused and then continued, full-energy. "But we're playing shows here, too. So you can come to those, right?"

"Sure," I said. I let Lizzy take over on the babble front, and my eyes drifted back over to the window. I got an eyeful of a Tyla make-out session. They had turned sideways enough that I had a much better view. Shay's hands had disappeared into Ty's hair. Ty was holding Shay closer to him—I got the impression that he was afraid that this wouldn't last, and wanted to make the most of it while he had the chance. Like a dream you don't want to let go of.

I looked away. I mean, yeah, I've seen them do a ton of things like this, but this time was…different.

Give me intimate.

Flash.

I didn't feel right watching. And _man, _I wanted to have that again—someone who loved me that much. The feeling of home-sickness that had been gnawing at me sent a shockwave of pain and longing through me.

"Hey, are you okay?" Wally asked.

I quickly pulled myself together. "Yeah," I replied. "Yeah, I'm fine, Wally. So, um, do you guys need merch girls or anything?" I forced enthusiasm again, but it worked this time.

"You'd do that?!"

"That would be wicked, dude."

"Lizzy—you gonna come, too?"

"Um, you know it!"

I wasn't exactly sure what I'd just volunteered for, but at least it got the conversation to turn away from me. And at least I officially had summer plans. A tour bus with three rowdy guys—eh, I could deal.

Maybe I'd find a way out of it later—but for now, I had something to focus on other than Tommy.

Give me diversions.

Flash.

* * *

Wally's girlfriend's name was Audrey. I didn't get a last name from her and didn't really care to know. Which might be a bit of a rude thing to say, but whatever. I couldn't really see the two of us hanging out like, ever.

She kept giving me weird looks whenever I talked to Wally—until finally I just sat on the floor with Kyle and shut my mouth. I don't think Wally really noticed—and if he did, he just chalked it up to me being upset about Spiederman.

But whatever. I didn't need Audrey's approval.

"Um, didn't you have something to say?" I asked Kyle when Audrey was distracted by Wally.

"Yeah," Kyle replied, face brightening. "You're not gonna believe this—you know that job at the CD store? I got hired!"

"Awesome…I'll have to come bug you, working stiff," I teased half-heartedly. All of the jobs I'd applied for had gotten a response of thanks, but no thanks.

And that CD store sucks anyway.

That could just be me being bitter about the fact that I didn't have any of that, though.

Give me jealous.

Flash.

* * *

By the time Shay and Ty came back, Lizzy and I had been briefed about tour dates and the rest. It was settled that we would spend most of July following the SME guys around Canada, being merch girls for six shows.

"Seriously?" Shay exclaimed when we told him. "I get to come too, right?"

This was met with a resounding chorus of "Duh".

"Well…looks like it'll be more than just us," Shay beamed to me, and my guilt deepened. It was so nice to see him like this after so long—I _needed _to be happy for him.

And I could be. I knew that I could. "Yeah, I guess not," I answered. I offered an authentic smile, which came to me easier than I'd expected it to.

The night lingered on as all of us chattered and schemed. I noticed that Shay and Ty stuck close to each other, and were always somehow touching—bumping elbows, leaning into each other. And it made me smile.

When we finally left, it was around three in the morning, and I didn't want to go.

Shay looked at me and grinned. "So—feeling any better?"

"Yeah."

And believe it or not, I was.

Give me honesty.

Flash.

Give me surprises.

Flash.

Give me hope.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: All right! End of chapter. :) So basically I'm leaving to go to camp in Florida on Monday, and won't be back til Friday - so if I don't respond to your reviews, I'm not ignoring you! I'll answer when I get back. I hope this chapter was worth the wait bbz.


	29. In Which Jude's Inhibitions Are Lacking

A/N: ACK. GUYS! This is the second to last chapter! D: I'm kind of freaking out right now! I'm sorry this update took so long, but I didn't want to get caught up to where I'd written, so that you guys would have to wait, ha. So I needed to finish chapter 30. Which I have now done, and it will be posted sometime this week. Anyway.

Note2: I'm listening to "The Car in 20" by The Early November. They're kind of awesome, and you can get their three-disc cd for 10 bucks on iTunes. DO IT. Seriously. :D

Disclaimer: All of the SME songs are shamelessly stolen from Tyler Kyte's stuff.

* * *

_Chapter Twenty-nine  
_"_In Which Jude's Inhibitions Are Lacking"_

The week passed by quickly, and I realized that Shay had been right—everything got easier to bear with every passing day. It still sucks that Tommy's gone, of course, but at least now I realize that I'm _not _alone. I spent most of the week hanging out with Lizzy, ridiculously glad to have another girl to talk to. I'd never really had one before.

"Hey, Ms. Diva the Mirror Hog," Lizzy teases while she playfully bumps me out of the way with her hip. "The rest of us need some time to get ready too, y'know."

"Who, you and your multiple personalities?" I taunt back, scooting over to give her a better view of the mirror.

"Britney does not appreciate your attitude," Lizzy says flatly, meeting my eyes in the mirror.

I snicker. "Britney? Of all the things you could call your crazy side, you choose _Britney?"_

"Well, it fits, doesn't it?" Lizzy giggles. "Britney's all kinds of crazy."

"Hey—trash-talking the queen isn't cool, kids," Shay says, popping into the bathroom in a half-hearted search for his straightener.

Lizzy scoffs as I ask, "Shay, do you even _like _Britney?"

"Well…no," Shay admits. Giving up on his futile search, he tugs at a lock of his hair and cringes when it bounces back into a curl. "Brandy Alexander is my only queen." He looks at the two of us, and through the mirror I can see his solemn expression. "Am I ever going to get it back?"

"What, your virginity?" Lizzy smirks. "Sorry, hun, don't think you're getting that one back."

Shay goes red as the two of us giggle. He finally continues, "No, Liz. My straightener."

"Nope!" Lizzy turns and ruffles his hair. "Anyway, it suits you."

Shay sticks his tongue out at her, since, y'know, we're all such _mature _kids. "You two are mean, horrible people," he says, earning him a couple of smacks upside the head. "Ow, jeez. Point taken."

"Jude, aren't you glad we're ditching this horrible, curly-haired tease and partying tonight?" Lizzy asks, grinning.

"You know it. And besides—isn't _he _ditching _us?" _I shoot Shay a grin so that he knows I really don't mind. As long as Tyla is going strong, I'm good.

Lizzy leans closer to the mirror and paints her eyelids with orange eyeshadow. Shay gives me a sideways hug. "Lizzy? You're gonna help me kill Tommy if he says anything to Jude tonight, right?"

"Honey," Lizzy says, moving on to red eyeliner, "if Tommy says anything to Jude tonight, there won't be enough of him _left _for you to kill."

So basically, I love my friends.

Tonight is going to be the first time I've seen Tommy since the Art Show Incident. For some reason, it had kind of shocked all three of us when we'd realized that he would be at the party. It shouldn't have, since he _had _co-produced SME's album. Shay had attempted to cancel his date with Ty to be there for me, but I wouldn't let him.

It's time to suck it up and just keep going. I can't be upset forever.

Give me grown.

Flash.

* * *

It's really great to have a lot of party-crazed friends sometimes. Namely in times like this.

There are cars lined up and down the street where 620 is located and I can hear music pumping from inside even before Lizzy and I get out of the car.

Lizzy raises her eyebrows at me. "You ready for this?"

"Nope," I say honestly. "But let's do it anyway."

"That's the spirit!" Lizzy exclaims loudly enough that some people on the street give us strange looks. "C'mon, let's go drink and then dance sluttily, 'kay?"

"Is 'sluttily' even a word?" I ask.

"If it isn't, it totally should be," Lizzy giggles. "I'd write the definition myself."

"Sluttily. Adverb," I start.

"A way of describing something _very _skanky and X-rated. Usually applies to a form of style or dancing."

"Hey, Liz? Why has no one asked _us _to write a dictionary? Ours would be _way _more entertaining than all these boring ones."

"I know, right? We're just fierce like that." She beams, pleased with our high levels of awesome. "Harrison and Way's Wicked Fierce X-Rated Dictionary. Best seller, girl."

Our conversation ends as we step in through the open door, to the room where everything is happening. The music becomes loud—almost overwhelmingly so. SME is performing "Let's Talk" for an enthusiastic crowd. People are crowd-surfing and shoving each other around. (Personally, I'd never really found SME's stuff mosh-able, but I guess once you drink enough, anything's game.)

Give me crazy.

Flash.

"Do you see him anywhere?" I ask over the noise.

"Over there," Lizzy says, nodding to a sound table, where Kwest and Tommy are working.

"Well, let's go this way, then," I say, pointing in the opposite direction.

Lizzy looks to where I'm pointing, and her eyes light up. "Drinks! Wicked, let's go."

_Hmm. Great, _I think, but I follow anyway.

Lizzy hands me a red plastic cup and I cringe at how cliché this is. (I mean, seriously, what's next? Beer pong?)

"Cheers," she grins, holding her cup up to me.

For a moment, I remember how, back when my mom cared, she'd been so ridiculously opposed to alcohol. Any time we saw some drunk out in town, she'd start ranting about how horrible they all were.

Give me irony.

Flash.

I almost put my drink down at that memory, but then I remember that I don't respect my so-called mom anymore. I raise my cup and hit it against Lizzy's. "Bottom's up."

Give me delayed rebellion.

Flash.

* * *

You know, sometimes it's pretty good to um, have your wits about you. If you're fixing breakfast, for instance.

"Shay, next time you feel like cooking...please don't," I say, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to smack him upside the head.

The two of us are staring at the remnants of a bowl of cereal that is splattered across the microwave, the countertops, the floor, and the wall. How did my brilliant roommate achieve this?

"Well," he says sheepishly. He rubs the back of his neck, frowning at the mess. "Um, well. I thought you could heat up cereal."

Blank look.

"Like oatmeal," he elaborates.

I laugh, partially in disbelief. "Dude, you lived out of your car for a year, and you don't know that you can't heat cereal? How did you survive?"

"School lunches," he admits. "And fast food, whenever I could get it."

Well, then. One thing to know about Shay: He really makes me appreciate my crappy old apartment. "Jeez. No wonder you're a twig."

To his credit—Shay did look ridiculously tired. I think he'd been up all night, working on some paper he's been freaking out over. So I can let this slide. But trust me—the boy's going to be teased _mercilessly _over this one.

"So, I'm thinking we need a roommate who can cook," Shay says.

"Oh, yeah. Someone who likes to cook and clean. And is crazy smart. And preferably really, really hot."

Shay laughs at this. "I'll go pull someone out of a fanfic."

"Just pick one with a short name."

We both grin at our mutual dorkiness. "I'm, uh, I'm gonna clean this up." He smirks for a second. "Maybe you should go look for that roommate, Jude."

I laugh and rip off some paper towels. "We'll do that later. How about you sign up for some cooking classes first?"

Give me common sense.

Flash.

* * *

I really don't think I'll remember much about tonight in the morning. Especially four cups of beer later. Man—I really don't remember much of tonight _now. _Except that I'm here with Lizzy, and I can see Tommy ignoring me. And it sucks. A lot.

My limbs feel heavy, like I'm swimming through sand. At the same time, though, I feel loose, speaking easily with perfect strangers; flirting madly with any guy who comes near me.

Lizzy isn't in a much better state than I am. She stands beside me, dancing to the band. (They're playing "Kings and Queens", one of their more recent songs.) Her drink is sloshing over the sides of her plastic cup, but she doesn't notice. It just spills over her bright green nails and onto the floor. "Isn't this fun?" she grins, face flushed.

_"Totally _fun," I say. My voice is slurred.

"Dance with me!" She giggles, flailing around even more.

I shake my head, laughing loudly at her (horrendous) dancing. Truth is, I'm not sure if I can walk a straight line, so I'm _so _not going to dance and make an even _bigger _idiot out of myself.

Lizzy pouts at me, but I'm distracted away from our conversation—someone taps me on the shoulder, and I turn to face him. _Tommy? Please be Tommy, please be Tommy—_

It isn't Tommy.

Dangit.

I tilt my head at the guy, looking out from under my bangs. It takes me a moment to realize that I know him—well, kind of. I'd been flirting with him earlier. "Hi," I say.

He says something, but I can't make sense of it. Spiederman came over the mic, saying that the guys would be taking a break, and his announcement covered the guy's words. I just nod to him, and he smiles.

Soon, I feel his arm around my waist, and he leads me away from Lizzy, up to the balcony. The shock of the cool air is almost sobering. _Almost._

"You're beautiful," the guy breathes into my ear. I don't know if it's the alcohol or the loneliness that makes me appreciate this. Either way, I do like to hear it, and I'll admit that. It feels nice to hear those words again—though they sound strange coming from someone other than Tommy.

Give me desperate.

Flash.

Give me affection.

Flash.

And then I'm against the railing, and he's all over me. The railing presses into the middle of my back, almost painfully. The affection doesn't feel right anymore. I don't want this. I don't want to be the drunken slut. "No," I say, pushing at him. He doesn't seem to be affected. "Get _off!" _I shove him, but I can't get him away from me. _"Stop it!"_

"Hey—_get away from her!"_

The guy is yanked away from me. I look up to see my savior—Tommy, who was seething, chewing the guy out. My mind clears just enough to send me back into a state of confusion. Why does he care? Doesn't he hate me?

"Come on," Tommy says to me. "I'm taking you home."

And with that simple command, my anger boils over. The repressed aggravation of the past few weeks comes back to me full-force. "No," I slur stubbornly. _"No, _you can't make me."

He studies me for a moment, and then picks me up and carries me over his shoulder. I beat at his back feebly, but I have no effect on him. "Put me down," I whine.

"How much have you had to drink?" he asks.

"Enough," I mumble.

He's carrying me down the fire escape, toward his car. Realizing that I'm not going to get him to let me go, I give up. I can chew him out in the car because he _so _has it coming to him, the stupid jerk.

"What about Lizzy?" I ask instead.

"Kwest'll get her." Tommy pops the passenger door of his car open and sets me down in it. He shuts the door and walks to the other side. I glower at him as he gets in and starts the car. "What?" he finally asks as we pull off the street.

_"What? _Are you _serious?" _I'm raging pissed off now, and I can't stop my thoughts from sloppily filling the air. "I dunno, Tommy, you just freaking broke my heart; I wonder _why _I would _possibly _be pissed off! You just freaking, you freaking _left _me because I did what I had to do!"

"What was I supposed to _do, _Jude?" He sounds pained. "I didn't know what to think, okay? It freaked me out."

"But I love you. And you loved me! Why couldn't you just deal with it?" I can barely understand myself through the alcohol-induced slur and the angry tears building up.

"I don't know, okay?" He ends the conversation by grabbing his phone and punching some buttons. "Ty? …Are you back at Shay's yet?" He frowns. "No, Jude's wasted. I'm taking her home."

"I'm _not _wasted, I'm _pissed off!" _I half-shout.

Pause. "Yeah, _that _wasted. …No, man. I'll just take her back with me. Just, uh, give Shay a head's up that Lizzy's just as drunk as Jude is."

"I'm not drunk," I protest, even if I know it's a lie.

Tommy rolls his eyes at me. "Yeah, later, man." He hangs up on Ty and tosses his phone in the backseat. "I don't know what to do with you," he says to me.

That's okay, though, because honestly I don't know what to do with myself either. I almost tell him this, but I refrain from doing so at the last moment. If I don't get comfort, why should he?

Give me stubborn.

Flash.

Give me angry.

Flash.

Give me lost.

Flash.

* * *

A/N: Woot! Just two things to say right here: One—next chapter is the last one! OMFG! Two—yes, it is possible to blow up cereal in a microwave, thinking that you can heat it. One of my friends did it.


	30. In Which Loose Ends Are Tied

**A/N:** Wow, you guys. After over a year, I've finally come to the end of this. I'm really sad to say goodbye to these characters—and to you guys, who've kept me going through this. I just want to say thank you so much to all of y'all who stuck with me through my insanity in this, ha. Your comments really mean a lot.

Also...I'm really sorry if I didn't reply to your review last chapter. My internet's been wonky lately, and I'm not sure which replies went through and which didn't. :( So, thank you so much for reading and taking the time to comment. (Thanks to anonymous reviewers, too, since I can't respond to those.)

**Note2:** I'm currently listening to "Motorcycle Drive-by" by Third Eye Blind. It's a pretty amazing song that I'm sure I've mentioned several times, because it is just THAT GOOD.

* * *

_Chapter Thirty  
_"_In Which Loose Ends Are Tied"_

When I wake up the next morning, my first thought is that a truck has parked itself on my head. My second is wondering where I am, and how I got there.

I focus on the latter, and struggle into a sitting position, despite my raging headache. After a few minutes of trying to open my eyes without it giving me flashes of pain, I can finally start to make sense of the setting. I'm lying on a rickety bed in a room that clearly belongs to a guy. There's a guitar in the corner and a school-issue laptop in a fold-out chair.

The guitar looks just like—oh, God.

_"I'm _not _wasted, I'm _pissed off!"

I drop my throbbing head into my hands and groan as distorted bits of the conversation fill my mind. Gah, I'm an idiot.

Give me shame.

Flash.

Tommy's. I'm at the house of Tommy, Kwest, and Ty. And seeing as I can't remember coming here…I probably passed out when Tommy was driving me over. _Crap, _that's embarrassing. Now I'll have to deal with him, knowing that I made myself look so stupid and pathetic; knowing that I _am _so stupid and pathetic.

Ugh. Might as well get up and get it over with.

I get off the bed and stand on the floor for a moment, swaying slightly. Once I feel like I've got my balance back, I take a deep breath and walk out of the room.

Tommy's sitting on a worn-out couch, drinking something out of a chipped coffee mug. He looks up at me as I walk in, and he nods to the table in front of him. ("Table" might be an overstatement. This was a large, sturdy trunk with "COFFEE TABLE" written on it in duct tape.) On the table, there's another coffee mug and a couple of aspirin.

I swallow the pills quickly, relieved that I hadn't had to ask for them. I sat down in the only available place—right next to him. Suddenly, I'm conscious of the fact that my hair's probably a mess, and my breath probably smells awful. I make a point not to turn my head to him while I talk. "So."

He sets his mug back on the table and then turns to me. "Jude…I, uh, I don't know how to say this, but…"

Here it comes. _"I don't love you, I never did, and I now think you're a drunken whore."_

Give me low expectations.

Flash.

* * *

"So you're really leaving?"

Wally and Kyle are helping me pack all of my crap into the back of my car. We'd come back from graduation only about an hour ago, and I'm _so _ready to get out of this town. I'm not so ready to say goodbye to my guys, though. They're really just about all I have.

"Yep, Wally, I'm really leaving," I say. A slightly apologetic expression flits across my face.

"I'm gonna miss you, dude," Wally says mournfully. He really does look sad that I'm leaving. In a strange way, it makes me feel better.

I hug him and give him an assuring smile. "I'm gonna miss you, too, you dork. But I'll see you soon, right?"

"Right," Kyle answers. "We'll come see you." He sighs and holds his arms out to me. I let go of Wally and latch onto Kyle. "Jeez, it's like watching my kid sister leave."

I pull back. "Don't get mushy on me, Bateman," I tease. "You're not gonna cry, are you?"

"No," he scoffs. "I'm not gonna _cry."_

"Until after you leave," Wally cuts in. Kyle shoves him as I laugh.

"You guys…you're the only good thing about this place," I say honestly. "Thanks for that."

"Hey now…don't go knockin' Liam," Kyle jokes half-heartedly.

"Oh, _how _could I forget _Liam?" _The landlord in question had actually smiled when I'd given him my two weeks notice. "Of _course _Liam is awesome."

Wally snickers, and Kyle shuts the trunk of my car. The three of us stand awkwardly, waiting for someone else to speak. I sigh and break the silence. "I guess I've gotta go now, guys." I almost don't want to—but I _need _to get out of this town.

I'll spare you the end of our goodbyes and just tell you that I can see Wally and Kyle waving until I turn the corner.

Give me abandoning.

Flash.

* * *

"I'm…sorry for everything," Tommy says, averting his eyes. He speaks to his hands as I watch in confusion. "I, uh, I over-reacted. I just…freaked out, and I didn't know how to…um, deal with it."

I find my voice and shakily ask, "What made you…I mean…why now?"

"Last night," he replies, picking at the edge of his thumbnail. "With that guy."

Guy? Crap, what did I _do _last night?! I silently curse myself for being stupid.

As if sensing my hidden confusion, Tommy elaborates. "Seeing him all over you—it just…pissed me off." The jabs at his thumbnail grow a little more aggressive. "I guess…I just…it made me see that I still love you, Jude." He pauses, smiles softly, and looks up to meet my eyes. "I never stopped."

I honestly would love to say that I was strong and didn't go back to him. That I said, "Forget you, you hurt me, and I'm done with this."

But I'm just as happy to tell you that I _don't _say any of that. I miss him too much to let him go. I practically knock him over when I bury my face in his shoulder, letting him hold me.

"Does this mean that you'll be my girl again?" He sounds amused.

I look up and smile. "I never stopped."

And, for that moment, none of it matters—not the pain of the past few weeks, not my throbbing headache, not my booze-breath. Nothing matters except for the fact that I'm here with him, and he loves me.

Give me bliss.

Flash.

* * *

It takes me six hours to get to the school. I can't quite explain what I felt on that drive, so I guess I'll just break it down to a list of the things that I did on the way there.

I cried about leaving Wally and Kyle.

I laughed about my ideas of college life.

I plotted out how I imagined my roommate—a girl named Kat—to be.

I blasted Panic! at the Disco until my ear drums were close to popping.

But mostly, I just prayed that my life would get better, to whoever is up there listening.

Now, I walk toward the dorm building that I'd been assigned to. I'm kind of hoping that my roommate's already there—and that she'll help me to bring my stuff in. I'm nervous, to be perfectly honest. I haven't ever really had to deal with other girls my age—at least, not ones who were nice to me. I'd always been the girl with guys for friends.

But I should be okay, right? I mean, how bad could it be?

I stand in front of my dorm room, looking pathetic, I'm sure. There's a whiteboard on the front of the door that reads, _"Kat Benton's Room." _I take a deep breath and then knock on the door.

Almost immediately, a small black girl opens the door. She has a cell phone pressed to her ear. She looks at me impatiently. "Yeah?"

"Um. I'm Jude. Jude Harrison. Your roommate?"

The girl's eyes dart to the side, toward her phone. "Sorry, you got moved. Didn't you get the letter?"

"Um. No?" This is not good. Moved? Can they even do that this close to the beginning of the semester?

"Well, you might want to check that out at the housing office," she says. "Sorry; you were _supposed _to get a memo." Her tone becomes steely in the last few words, and I get the impression that she's aiming it toward whoever she's on the phone with.

Great. A missed memo? _That _makes me feel better about not having a place to live. Freaking perfect. And I mean, it's pretty obvious that she got me moved somehow, from how pissy she's getting at the person on the other end about me not knowing.

Give me drama.

Flash.

Give me confusion.

Flash.

_Well…at least I didn't bring my stuff with me, _I think as I walk away. _That would've sucked even harder. So I guess I can count my blessings._

I came up with only two more on the drive over to the housing office. One, I am not back home anymore, and two, I'm not dead.

I guess that's _something._

* * *

Tommy drove me home so that I could sleep off my hangover. I held his hand the whole way home—for comfort or because I was unsteady on my feet, I'm, uh, not disclosing—and made plans to see him tomorrow, when I wasn't quite so out of it.

Shay and Ty are sitting at the kitchen table, intently reading over a textbook—probably from their class on music theory—when I walk in. "Hey, boys," I say, still smiling.

It takes a moment for them to shake themselves out of their studying trance, but when they do, both grin. "Jude-girl," Shay says, shielding his eyes. "Your happy glow is blinding."

I walk over and hug him from behind. "Me and Tommy are okay again," I explain.

Give me pride.

Flash.

Shay beams at me. "That's awesome, Jude. But, uh, let him know that if he hurts you again, he'll regret it." He looks up at me, giving me a "tough" look that makes me want to giggle.

"Shayla, what're you gonna do, beat him with your straightener? Oh—wait. You lost that with your—"

"OKAY, SO," Shay cuts me off, blushing furiously. "Maybe you should go sleep!"

Ty raises an eyebrow at us. I grin at him mischievously, but I don't explain. Some things are better left between roommates. "So, you're not, uh, 'pissed off' anymore?" he questions, the picture of innocence.

I give myself the liberty of smacking him upside the head. "No, I'm mostly sober, but, uh, I think I am going to go to sleep now." After all, Advil only goes so far, right?

"Well," Shay says, "Liz is still pretty much dead. Kwest brought her back at like…four?" He looks to Ty, who nods his affirmation. "Yeah, like four."

"She was pretty 'pissed off', too," Ty says seriously.

"Can it, Klutz Boy," I scowl. He flashes me a wide, crooked grin, and when I see how Shay's face lights up at it, I decide I can forgive him for his teasing.

"Ugh, I'm going to sleep," I say. "Later, guys."

I turn and walk back to my room, and then collapse into the sleep of the dead.

Give me peaceful.

Flash.

* * *

Several Advil and a few days later, things have pretty much gone back to normal. All of us are hanging out together again, and though there's a lot of drama that comes between us—stuff that will never _completely _go away—we're all doing okay.

Today, we're all meeting up at McAllister's for lunch. Most of us have classes right before that, so driving together wouldn't really work. I am waiting for Shay, though—in _my _car, which I _finally _have back from the mechanic…along with a lengthy, heartfelt letter of apology from the girl who had rammed into it. Which was sweet, but didn't change the fact that Shay's in a walking cast because she didn't have the brains to, y'know, _not _pull out into traffic without stopping.

But anyway.

Right now, I'm sitting in the driver's seat, staring at the folded piece of paper in my hands. It's the final evaluation on my photography project—and I haven't been able to check the score the entire ten minutes that I've been sitting out here.

Give me anxiety.

Flash.

Give me dread.

Flash.

I'm freaking out _way _too much to check. I'm second-guessing myself like crazy. I mean, what if it was just _me _who thought that the pictures were good? What if Ms. Hudgens decided that I _had _cheated?

I am very tempted to just rip it up and throw it out the window. Like, enough that I actually start to roll down the window—but then Shay finally shows up.

"Hey," he grins, shutting the door behind him. "What's that, and why are you trying to kill it?" He nods to the paper, cutting straight to the chase.

I frown at the paper and then sigh. "The evaluation of my project." I pull out of the school parking lot, and out onto the amazingly traffic-free road.

His eyes widen a bit at that, and, taking in my expression, he looks concerned. "Did you…not do great? Because, you know, art is about, um, expression, and you can't really put a grade on expression, and I _know _your pictures were great, so your Trelawny-professor is just blind, because your stuff was—"

"Shay. I haven't looked yet. Chill."

He shuts up mid-babble and looks at me sheepishly. "Oh." He gives me a look like, _Well, Jude? Are you gonna open it, or what?_

Insert a heavy sigh here. "I can't," I say, tone bordering on a whine. "I can't look, Shayla."

"Want me to do it?"

I hesitate, but then I hand it to him. He flips it open and begins reading over the numbers and comments. After a few painful moments, he turns back to me. "Okay, so—"

"No! No, don't tell me!" I put my hands up to cover my ears, and then remember that I'm driving and hastily put my hands back on the wheel.

"Oh, come on, Jude-girl! Just listen—"

"_No. _Not now. Later. After lunch. Okay?!" He must've heard the panicked tone in my voice, because he drops it.

* * *

To put it bluntly, I am quite ready to knock some heads together by the time I pull up to the housing office. It juts doesn't strike me as fair that this crap keeps happening to me. Great start to a new place, right? Ugh.

I'm on the verge of screaming as I push open the door to the office. I'm feeling hopeless and unworthy of life. I'm feeling like no one wants me, and that's why all of this keeps happening.

Give me emo.

Flash.

Inside the office, there's only one person—a boy about my age. He's skinny—probably smaller than me. He has pin-straight black hair that falls into his blue eyes. He's flipping through a magazine with Panic! at the Disco on the cover.

I look around, expecting to see someone, y'know, actually doing their job.

As if sensing my despair, the boy speaks up, glancing up from his magazine. "They'll be with you in a minute," he says in a bored tone. He pauses and then sighs. "At least, that's what they told me four fuh-riggin' hours ago. I mean, seriously, if she wants to bang the guy to get a new roommate, then she should do it on her own dmn time."

I smile hesitantly, not quite sure what to think of this boy. I sit down next to him and nod to his magazine. "I love them," I say softly.

An hour later, I leave the housing office with a place to live and the person who would end up being the best friend I've ever had.

Give me fate.

Flash.

* * *

"No way! She didn't _seriously _say that, did she?!" Lizzy gasps, staring at Kwest from across the table.

As always, Lizzy, Shay, and I were sitting on one side of the booth, with Kwest, Ty, and Tommy on the other. Kwest just finished off a story about this girlfriend he'd brought home to his parents a couple of years ago. It was kind of epic.

Kwest smirks at Lizzy's reaction. "Yeah, believe it. The look on my dad's face…" He shakes his head at the memory.

Someone kicks my foot from under the table. "_Oh – my – God. _Not this again!" I put on a semi-annoyed expression and narrow my eyes at Shay and Ty again. Both grin at me, their sheepishness long gone. Ty smiles at Shay, and I feel hopeful that maybe this time, things will be better.

"So," Lizzy says, looking to me. "You got the big results back, right?"

Five sets of eyes focus on my face. Shay pokes me in the side, smiling. "Yeah," I reply, nerves coming back. "Yeah, I did."

"Results from what?" Tommy asks.

"My photography project." _You know, that one where I stalked you for pictures? Yeah, that one._

"Ah." He has no further comment. It's one of those things that we normally don't talk about. Our personal taboo—though he had gone back and looked at my portfolio without flipping out.

"How'd you do?" Kwest asks, pushing the conversation from one awkward spot to another.

"Um," I say. "I haven't looked yet."

"Why not?!" Lizzy looks aghast.

"Don't want to." I'm quite aware of how much I sound like a stubborn six-year-old, thank you very much.

"You have to! I mean, seriously, Jude. You've been working on this for _months. _Don't you wanna know how you did?"

"Yeah," I sullenly agree. "But I don't have the evaluation."

"Then who does?"

Shay looks around the table and then slowly raises a hand to shoulder-height. He's chewing on his bottom lip, and appears to be ready to burst.

"Spill, Shayla," Lizzy says, leaning forward to fix him with the "do it or die slowly" stare.

Shay turns to me, still biting his lip. He raises his eyebrows, asking permission.

Give me exasperation.

Flash.

"Okay! Fine! Go ahead!" I cross my arms and slouch back against the seat, bracing myself for what was coming next.

It doesn't take Shay long to blurt out what he's been holding back. "Near perfect score. Like, most definitely an A."

My mouth drops open in surprise. _"Seriously?!"_

Shay smiles widely. "Yeah! I mean, she counted you off on some technical stuff—like, that some of it wasn't really organic, and a few points off for some missing elements-of-art stuff—but you did it, Jude-girl!"

I let out a shriek as I excitedly hug Shay from the side. "Oh, _man! _Are you _serious? _This is awesome!"

"You deserve it, Jude," Ty says, smiling. "The pictures were great."

"Thanks," I say, beaming. This is so great—but I'm not sure where the relief is coming from. I mean, I can narrow it down to two sources: One being that I'd done well, and the other being that I'm finally finished, for real. I'm not too positive about which one is more stress-clearing and happy-making.

I quickly decide that it shouldn't matter why—in this moment, I'm happy, and I'm with people that love me, and I no longer have to stalk Tommy with a camera. For once, I'll just take the happiness I can get without question, because if there's one thing that I've learned this year, it's that good things can come and go. Someone that you put your faith in can suddenly be gone. And the stability that you've come to depend on can be pulled from under your feet.

But, y'know, "evil girls melt when you throw hair dye on them" is a close second.

Give me knowledge.

Flash.

* * *

By the end of the hour, Kwest and Lizzy have gone home. Tommy and I leave shortly afterward—after I give Ty my keys. (Crazy kid _walked _to McAlister's from the store he works at—which is like, five miles away.)

Tommy hands me a helmet, and I put it on. I feel like a bobblehead—especially when Tommy places a flat palm on the top, playfully rocking it back and forth. He gives me a smile before putting his own helmet on.

"So I finally have Quincy-cycle privileges back?" I ask, smirking at the motorcycle.

"You've got more privileges than that back, big eyes," he replies, winking suggestively. This earns him a playful smack on the shoulder. He just smiles and tilts his head down so that our helmets are touching. "You ready to go, girl?"

"Yep." He steps away, toward the motorcycle, and I take the moment to look over my shoulder—into the restaurant, where Ty and Shay are still sitting in the booth, throwing sugar packets at each other and laughing. "Just make sure to bring me back, Quincy," I say with a warm smile.

"I'll have to think about that one, Harrison," he replies seriously. The look in his eyes is too much to resist.

Give me mischief.

Flash.

Give me charm.

Flash.

Give me love.

Flash.

* * *

**A/N:** So now, as I hear fireworks shooting like gunshots outside, I leave you all. I am very grateful for all of you who have kept me going through this, and I really hope that this ending has shipped the story off right. I'd just like to take a second and say this: If you guys like my writing, please make sure to check out the writing community on livejournal that my friend Sandra and I have started. I'm posting my original stuff, and some of my fanfiction - and anything having to do with FFFP-verse!Instant Star, or Tyla, or Lizzy, will all end up posted there. There's a link to the comm in my profile - it's called She's The Smoke. (Also, if there are horror fans out there - a story is being posted there called Sloan Mill. Check it out? It's all kinds of awesome. Lils Evans (on here) and I are writing it.)


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